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Post by Admin on Feb 21, 2013 19:54:56 GMT -5
"Lord-Governor, Madame Helen has requested to speak to you in her chambers."
A plume of smoke issued forth from behind a pile of papers haphazardly stacked on the desk that could only liberally be called 'extravagant'. "I do not have time for that witch's games, tell her I am busy."
"She told me you would say that M'Lord. She says it's urgent."
The desk itself seemed to echo the annoyance of the Lord governor, groaning in protest as the man leaned against it as he stood. The Lord-Governor himself was a plain man by Erin Secundus standards, his face nearly identical to every other male on the planet, save for some deep wrinkles and old war scars. His normally grey eyes almost looked red with anger. He stroked his well-kept sideburns for a moment while he puffed his expensive cigar, sighed, then gathered up his things. He didn't have the patience for this, but the governor knew that when Madame Helen requested an audience, it might be important.
The walk from the office to the astropath's chamber was especially far, per design. Erin Secundus had always had an innate distrust of psykers, no one was sure why, but that's how it was. The Governor who built the palace had been sure to keep the astropath's lair as far away from him as possible, but not too far as to not be of use.
The governor's boots clicked against the mosaic cobblestones of the main hall, his general staff tight on his heels. The everyday working rabble that polluted the beautiful hall rushed to get out of his way, not crazy enough to slow the man down. He was an impressive sight to behold, clad in a master-crafted set of carapace armor beset with engraved gold pauldrons and breastplate. His black greatcoat billowing behind him, giving him the likehood of a blazing asteroid ploughing through atmosphere. His right hand always hovered over his pistol holster, ever vigilant, lest an enemy of the Emperor became thirsty for a blast of white-hot plasma.
The door to the chamber blasted open and the Governor stormed inside. As he entered into the room, he was hit with a wall of stench. The smell of burning incense and body odor drenched the room in a most indescribable way, how the Astropath could live in it was a miracle. "What is it, Astropath?"
A Wizened old woman, wearing only tattered robes, looked up from her position on the floor. Polished bones and teeth scattered before her. "Lord-Governor, one of them has rotten."
"What are you talking about?" The governor raised an eyebrow, ashing his cigar crudely on her rug.
"The tooth, Lord, the tooth." Her milky eyes gazed off into the distance, while one bony finger shakily pointing at one of the teeth on the ground, a rather nasty looking cavity glared up at the Governor.
"You interrupted my busy schedule, for a blasted tooth?" The Lord-General roared angrily.
"The warp, is shifting angrily... something sinister... something, rotten is coming." The woman stared directly at the Lord-Governor, her teeth bared. Every tooth in the woman's mouth was covered in blackened filth, and her face began to shift, boils dotting her face. The Lord Governor wretched and drew back.
The Astropath tender drew his laspistol nervously, "Lord, something's wrong. Please step back."
The astropath's arched back, her mouth splitting open with a gurgling scream. "The Heralds of the Plaguefather are here! Their servants are coming! We must flee! We must-" The woman's words became nothimg more than a gurgle. Her face melted away, scraps of flesh fell from her face and hands. The Governor watched in horror as she plopped over on the ground, stone dead.
"Burn the body." The Governor finally said after a moment of gagging and coughing, "Emperor knows what foul sickness or witchcraft caused this." He hadn't the foggiest idea of what the 'plaguefather' was... he wasn't even sure if what this psyker was saying was a true warning, or her mind decaying from some sort of rot.
"Right away, lord!" The tender holstered his pistol and knelt, turning the body over to haul it away. Without any warning, the corpse began to twitch. The tender stopped for a moment, before the corpse began to shriek and leapt up. The Lord-General leapt back, but the tender was not so fast. The reanimated corpse wrapped its arms around the unfortunate man and dug its foul teeth into his neck.
The man howled in shock and agony, his blood sprayed everywhere. The Corpse tore away a gaping maw into the man's throat, hungrily swallowing a large chunk of flesh. The tender collapsed onto the ground, but the corpse turned its attention on the governor, gurgling hungry before making its move.
It hardly made one step before the governor responded, unholstering his plasma pistol and releasing a single shot. The corpse's upper body evaporated instantly. The legs, unable to register what had happened for a moment, took another step before plopping to the ground.
"What in the warp was that?"
The governor's vox suddenlt came to life, "Sir, this is Captain Adrinox from the Dominitius Space Station, your men have patched me to you."
"Continue, captain."
"Sir, our long range scanners have detected a fleet just beyond the second moon, they were using the Moon as concealment from our scanners."
"What? A fleet? Here?"
"Yes sir, I do not reconize the ships, they appear Imperial, something's wrong. What are your orders?"
"Demand identification, they might be a misplaced crusade armada."
"Yes sir, what if they refuse to identify themselves?"
"Engage them."
The Lord-Governor closed the link. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. Cult activity had risen dramatically in the past year, and that wasn't the first time that the astropath had warned him of some coming threat. He had a bad feeling about this. He opened his vox-link
"This is Lord-Governor Craft, I need my personal staff to assemble immediately."
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Post by recklesscharge on Feb 23, 2013 0:23:29 GMT -5
Faust panted heavily pausing in his long accent from the deep dark places under the hive far, far and away from even the lowest habituated levels. Dark things had gathered there, alien foreign things that made the normal terrors that lurked in the gloom tremble before their coming.
Corruption had spread first to the deep ones that made their lair furthest from the light, next it had come to those that shambled buried in the fungal forests by the geo sinks. After that, it spread to the eyeless cold things that slithered in the polluted lakes. Death and the stench of decay filled the undersink from end to end, but death was not an end. Rising up crying out with one voice, those that had fallen to the corruption scoured the depths for the living with a feverish hunger.
Turning his tall ribbed ears back the way he came Faust listened for several long minutes allowing his heart to slow and his breathing to all but stop. They were still behind him, distant, almost invisible, but still hunting for him. Bearing his sharp teeth in silent threat display, he turned and began to climb once more, his sharp claws finding purchase in the rusted pipe that pierced the crust of the planet like some immense hypodermic needle. The sound of civilization began to come to life around him the higher he climbed, passing through layer after layer of humanity. Resisting the urge to stop and scratch the constant itch that was the stylized I that branded his thigh he pushed himself to climb higher. He had a warning to present to his masters, one that could not wait.
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Pyromaniac
Acolyte
Nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home
Posts: 51
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Post by Pyromaniac on Feb 23, 2013 10:24:54 GMT -5
It was an ordinary day in the underhive... or about as ordinary as days got in the underhive, which was to say, not particularly ordinary at all. Scelene sighed, rubbing her eyes while one of her colleagues beat on a rival ganger. She just watched the street, keeping her eyes open for any sign of their rivals. Sure they were at just about the lowest point of the 'civilized' part of the hive but that didn't mean they wouldn't find them here.
The cries of pain behind her let up.
"Where is it!?" Bones shouted. There was only a grunt of pain in reply followed by a crack and a scream as something broke. "Where is it!? Where's the stash!?"
"I don't know!" She heard the ganger shout between coughs. "They didn't tell me where they moved it."
"You sure about that?"
He grunted an affirmation and a moment later the loud bang of a stubber echoed out from the alley it fired twice more. Bones emerged a moment later, lighting a lho-stick and taking a long drag. The two were silent, standing next to each other and watching the street. There was a shriek from the alley behind them and Scelene sighed.
"How is it that you shot him three times and still didn't manage to kill him?"
Bones just shrugged as way of a reply.
"Well then go deal with it." She told him.
"You deal with it."
"I'm not the one who proved himself incapable of killing a guy after shooting him three times."
"Well if I'm so incapable, then you should..."
Whatever else he was about to say was abruptly cut off as a twisted hand dug into his throat and ripped it out in a spray of blood. The lho-stick fell from his mouth and for a moment Scelene only stared in horror. The thing that had been the ganger turned towards her and lurched forward.
She forced her body into action, stepping away from the corpse she forced her fear down and drew her autopistol, unloading the entire magazine in one long burst. The twisted corpse dropped to the ground at her feet. She tried to take a deep breath but the stench overwhelmed her and she emptied the contents of her stomach right there.
She muttered curses under her breath as she heaved again before finally forcing herself shakily to her feet and stumbling away from the two corpses.
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gazzz477
Acolyte
We make war, so that we may live in peace
Posts: 77
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Post by gazzz477 on Feb 23, 2013 19:51:46 GMT -5
Kill-marine Manin stood under the beating sun of a planet with a name he forgot in a system he didn't give a damn about. He was only on this planet due to him being forced to follow a fellow kill-team, sabre or something, which were sent here for some reason. But he ditched them weeks ago, for he could smell something wrong in the air...something foul, yet familiar. For over five years he scoured this system, searching for some trace of proof where his target was. He had fought alone, along side the kill-team or with some random imperial force, but to no avail. He had just about given up hope on his hunt, until he found that smell. His memory sparked as soon as he found the sent, but he couldn't pin-point the memory from over three hundred years of service
He stood next to one of the Deathwatch troopers from the kill-team, his shoulder bearing the snarling head of some creature with a dark green back-drop. His jet black armour was broken by his white apothecary equipment on his backpack and the narthecium fixed onto his left fore-arm. Both of the men looked skyward at the mystery above them.
“Recognise those ships?” asked the soldier in a strong, almost alien, accent. Nodding towards the mysterious ships that had appeared soon after the astropath had been executed by the Governor. The marine had not recognised them at first sight. He hoped that his elder had.
“Yes...” coldly replied the warrior, as he always did to the other marines, for he distrusted the entire squad.
“What, exactly, do you think this means?”
“...trouble” cried the marine, shortly before turning around and sprinting down the marble floored hall, hastily fixing his helmet onto his head, activating the pressure lock and rapidly re-loading his bolter with a suprisingly oversized drum magazine, filled with customised mass-reactive bolt-shells. He knew exactly what was happening, he should of known as soon as he smelt that putrid stench, it was the sent of chaos. And to Manin, Chaos meant his target was near...near enough to find, near enough to kill.
[OOC- the other kill-team is from my 'Deathwatch' story found on my DA account]
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Post by gricken on Feb 25, 2013 15:57:31 GMT -5
Malchizar was agitated, iron in the last shipment was completely rusted, and all the requested Silica composites just weren't there, among other equally horrid oversights. Why on earth was he sent a 5 dozen pairs of shoes?! Obviously a great mix up had occurred before the shipments even arrived.
Whatever the case, that is why he was here now. To find out what the blazes went wrong, and to get the correct supplies. It had taken 4 months to arrive on Erin Secundus where the faulty shipment had come from, due to unusal (if such a word could be used for something that does not have a "normal") fluctuations in the warp, and it had taken another 3 weeks to actually have his request processed, even when he made his own rank clear. Blasted Imperial Bureaucracy, but today his request would be granted, today he would find out who gave him those-
"What do you mean 'Meeting postponed'?' Melchizar asked, doing his best to remain calm. He so hated delays.
"I do apologize Lord Magos" The secretary didn't sound apologetic at all. "But due to incidents outside our control, all meetings with the governor have postponed until the situation is resolved." It sounded rehearsed to Melchizar, and he was sure this menial knew nothing more than he told him.
"Very well," He sighed "Please inform as soon as you can when I will be able to continue my business" He walked outside before he could be given an answer. Whatever was holding up the Governor, it had better be important.
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Post by Admin on Feb 25, 2013 19:48:20 GMT -5
"Lord Governor, Erin Tricundus sent out a distress signal."
"Say again?" The Governor turned his attention to Sergeant-Major Tarshish. The Battle-worn face of the old SM was grim to say the least.
"Erin Tricundus has come under attack, they claim that a large enemy fleet appeared from the dark side of their moon and attacked their orbital defense station. Before they went dark they requested aid in repelling ground forces on a massive scale."
"By the Emperor, it appears this is more than stray cult activity. Any Word from the Lords on Majoris?"
"No Lord, but your spies have spotted a vessel belonging to Lord Baalshazzar land on the planet. They're not sure if the Lord Inquisitor is here himself or has simply deployed some of his agents."
The color (if there was any at all) drained from the Lord Governor's face. Inquisitor Lord Baalshazzar was not the Inquisitor you wanted to be investigating your world. The man was ruthless. "What do we have in the line of defense if the oncoming fleet is hostile?"
"We have a small defense fleet in orbit, it's not much but it will at least bring any enemy fleet to a halt. We also have a full ten regiments on standby, both PDF and units still in training. Our leman Russ Executioners and hellhound columns are undergoing some maintenance, but they will be ready to go in a few hours."
The S.M. Paused for a moment to let his words sink in, then he continued, " We're fortunate Lord Governor, it appears there is an entire company of Battle Diver Adeptus Astartes in the system. They have already contacted us and are sending some support, though the bulk of their forces have already deployed to Tricundus and Majoris." The Governor swore inwardly, Erin Secundus was always being under-handed in some way." We also have some intel on other Astartes on the planet, but chapter unknown."
"Good, Sergeant Major, There is a council being called to order, I want you to address them."
"Why not you, My Lord?"
"You know me, Tarshish. I Have some business to attend to, and we both know you're better at that sort of thing."
The Sergeant Major nodded, "Pro Secundus et Imperator." His expression was still grim, and the Governor knew that the Sergeant Major was not happy with him. This was a time of possible crisis, with Their sister world under attack, the cult activity and threat of invasion. But the Governor had a feeling that it wouldn't matter. Every moment this continued on, his optimism drained further. He made the sign of the Aquila and turned on his heels.
Auspex Operator Jornelius stared at the cogitator. Nothing, always nothing on the screen. Day in, day out, for the past thirty years he had served on the orbital station sitting in this desk and staring at that Emperor forsaken screen. Sure, once in awhile there would be a blip, or a ghost image, but it was always some space debris, or a scheduled ship arrival. Never anything interesting ever came up. But he was a man of duty and honor. So he watched, every day, for thirty years. Nothing ever blipped.
-Bleep!-
Jornelius jumped, it appeared he had dozed off again, he could have sworn he heard something...
-Bleep!-
It did! Something actually came on the cogitator! A small blip, just past the first moon. No, it must be some more debris...
-Bleep!-
Again? Closer. This was quite interesting. He adjusted his bifocals, leaned closer and stroked his greying sideburns. He should tell the shift supervisor.
"Uhhh... Franceaus, I think we have something over here..."
"Groxshit!"
"No really, it's a blip on the Auspex..."
"Probably just a stray meteor again, ignore it..."
-Bleep Bleep!-
Now there were two blips. Jorneliues readjusted his bifocals, sure he wasn't seeing this right. There was nothing wrong with his glasses. There were two blips now, and closer than before. "Franceaus... you should come look at this..."
"What is it, old man?" the Shift supervisor walked over and peered at the cogitator. "Maybe it's a shower, must be quite the show down on the surface..."
"Blip Blip Blip Blip!"
Four.
"Huh..."
-BLipBLipBLipBLipBLipBLipBLipBLipBLip!!!-
The screen suddenly became lit up with blips, and both of the men's jaw dropped.
"I'm going to tell the captain!" Franceaus bolted for the vox. Jornelius sat there, his jaw nearly on his desk. They were very close now... either this was a malfunction, or something massive had appeared in the space between Erin Secundus and its first moon in an instant. He struggled to his feet and stumbled to the port window for a view. TO his horror, he found himself staring at the largest fleet of warships he had ever seen.
He could hear Franceaus screaming into the vox, but he knew it didn't matter. The ships looked imperial, but he was close enough to notice that they were gruesome abberations, each one looking polluted and decayed, barnacles and puss filled, gaping maws jutted out of the bulkheads and a dull, green aura oozed from them.
Something caught his eye, tiny flecks of light scattered everywhere and growing larger. It was too late for him to even issue a scream when the thousands of missiles launched from the chaos war fleet ignited against his side of the station.
-Governor!- His personal vox screamed to life.
"What is it?" The Governor hollered, not breaking his pace as he stormed down the dark hallway.
-We're under attack-
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Post by recklesscharge on Feb 26, 2013 2:04:11 GMT -5
Finally clambering out of the pipe haggard and shaking with fatigue Faust allowed himself only a moment of rest. Gurgling a wordless sigh he turned his head and sniffed, shifting his mobile ears this way and that. The building was familiar, in that it was an unremarkably derelict factorum, nothing had changed despite it having been more than a year since he’d been there. Hissing his breath through his sharp teeth he padded silently over to a rusted shelf and flipped open a dust covered footlocker. Rifling through the contents he withdrew a threadbare hooded jacket and pulled it over his stretched frame.
It wasn’t enough to disguise the obvious fact that he was a mutant but it did cover the spines, and the hood did hide his ears as uncomfortable as they were laid back, not to mention a clothed twist would undoubtedly attract less attention than a naked one. Besides the coat, he withdrew one last thing from the locker, made of cold metal set with a single scanning lens at its center the collar snapped shut around his neck with a telling click. He didn’t know its purpose but neither did he question the orders given to him, and they had been explicit, when he returned from the depths he was to put the collar on, that was all he knew, all he cared to know.
“Fausssst…” the whispered voice was so close it made him start with fright. With ears as large and powerful as his there had never been a time when someone had startled him so. Turning his head so that his ears, covered as they were were faced towards the pipe he’d climbed out of. There was nothing there, nothing save for a growing number of fat bodied flies buzzing lazily into the room. “Faussst!” the voice called again from everywhere and nowhere at once. Snarling viciously Faust began to run.
“FAUST!” the voice screamed from the pipe before he was gone charging out of the building into the gloom of the lower hive level slums. Immediately the sounds and smells of humanity swallowed him up, it was nearly overload. He could hear the habwife singing to her crying children in the nearest building, he could hear the rats and vermin skittering around in the filth that lay rotting in every corner, he could hear the-
“Focus!” he snarled to himself, the sound of his own voice helped him tune everything out. However the sound of three close shots followed by a string of rapid fire blasts had him scrambling through the alleys. The stink of corruption and blood reached his nostrils as he fled and he couldn’t hep but wonder, would his warning come too late?
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verzuh
Nameless scum
Posts: 13
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Post by verzuh on Feb 26, 2013 3:21:27 GMT -5
“You will report to the Lord Governor as soon as possible.” Sister Anna looked at the data slate she’d been given for the twelfth time as the train carrying her through the hive and away from her convent sped down its tracks.
‘Report to the Lord Governor.’ She repeated in her head as she adjusted the sling that held her meltagun to her back. Next to her someone coughed. She thought nothing of it until he coughed again. Then another person began coughing. And another. And a fourth until almost everyone else in the car was coughing.
Sister Anna unslung her meltagun as the first person dropped to the floor. In the space of a minute all the other occupants fell to the ground. Seemly dead. Anna held her melta in her right hand while she reached for the emergency stop lever with her left. Her eyes on the bodies that covered the floor. As she found the red lever she heard a moan from one of the corpses. She pulled down on the lever as more moans filled the car. Then the first body began to stir.
She could feel the train decelerating as the first corpse rose and could tell that she was out of time. ‘Report to the Lord Governor.’ She thought to herself as she pulled the trigger on her melta.
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gazzz477
Acolyte
We make war, so that we may live in peace
Posts: 77
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Post by gazzz477 on Feb 26, 2013 6:31:32 GMT -5
As the dust settled from the opening shot, the damage became all too clear...Erin Secondus was under attack by Chaos. The plague ships of Nurgle hung over the planet, foreshadowing the impending doom of the populace, the cruel sadistic promise of immortality in the form of plague-bearer or zombie. Cutting down yet another hive civilian turned zombie, Kald'r pushed towards the last known position of Governor Craft. The route was not easy as with each turn he was met with hordes of plague-zombies or a collapsed building blocking his way. Letting out a sign of annoyance, kald'r sheathed his ancient power-sword 'antiquity' in its thick leather scabbard. Alerts of incoming hostiles or debris constantly flashed in the lenses of his helm, as well as an arrow showing him the way to his objective.
“Why did I have to be on the other side of this bloody city when these bastards show up.” the marine barked as he reloaded his deathwatch issued bolter. He gently jogged down the rock-crete streets now coated in blood and bile. As he slowly gained speed, he eventually simply ignored the hordes of zombies and plague-bearers, sprinting past them. That was until he saw something what seemed to be a train grind to a halt above him, followed very closely by the deep sound of a melta-blast and a sudden flash of orange/brown light from one of the carriages.
'Might as well try help.' thought the veteran Crimson Fist, 'This might be entertaining'
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Pyromaniac
Acolyte
Nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home
Posts: 51
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Post by Pyromaniac on Feb 26, 2013 12:19:20 GMT -5
She was lost. Quite hopelessly. Her staggering walk had quickly turned to a run as the stench got worse. Even if there weren't anymore shambling corpses coming to life Scelene couldn't avoid the feeling that something was very, very, wrong. Although the poor hive worlder could never have fathomed how wrong everything was.
Even so her mad dash through the underhive's twisting alleys had seen her quickly lost. She slowed to a stop to catch her breath, the adrenaline slowly beginning to fade from her system as the threat of immediate danger faded.
She cast her eyes around the alley, searching for any sign of familiarity, but alas there was none. She had not the slightest idea where she was, and even less of an idea on how to get back to the 'safety' of turf her gang controlled.
"Shit." She muttered as her breathing slowed. "Shit!" She shouted louder kicking over a mountain of trash, much to the protest of the rats and vermin which scattered with angry sounding hisses and squeaks. She took a moment to shove a fresh magazine into her autopistol, casting the empty one aside.
"Now what?" She muttered.
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Post by Admin on Feb 26, 2013 20:30:42 GMT -5
Lord Craft swore he could see the space battle up above, even through the gratuitous layer of pollution above. From the reports he had received from the junior NCO accompanying him, he could surmount that the defense fleet was getting its ass kicked.
"Lord Governor?"
Lord Craft snapped back into reality, looking down from the open sunroof. "What is it?"
"The driver just said we'll be at Space Port 219-Alpha in five mikes."
"Good, I hope Captain Marcus won't be waiting too long." He grunted, and looked back out the window. He stared blankly out onto the cityscape. Their current position was in the Governor's personal Limousine, driving at breakneck speeds down the Trueborn highway. The trueborn highway was the only road in the capital hive that was actually under the planet's true sky, being positioned at the very top of the hive city.
He was currently en route to the major city spaceport to meet Brother-Captain Marcus of the Battle Divers chapter. He wished to meet the Marine personally, hoping to requisition as much support as possible.
"Lord Craft, what is that?" The governor's attention snapped back to where the soldier was pointing. A speeding dropship suddenly shot by them. It was moving too fast for him to pick up any details, but a squadron of Vendettas soared overhead. The Limo screeched to a halt, the Governor was nearly bucked from his seat. He was about to scream at the driver, when he noticed that a hovering Valkyrie was blocking their path.
"What in the..." Lord Craft kicked open his door, his hand on his holster. The NCO Fumbled with his door and laspistol, but successfully trained the weapon on the troopship. A Single guardsman hopped off of the ship and ran to greet the Governor. Before the man could salute, Lord Craft cut him off.
"What in the Emperor's name are you doing here, trooper?"
"L-Lord Governor, we're here to pick you up!"
"What do you mean, pick me up?"
"The road isn't safe Lord, there are reports of landing and fighter craft all over the upper hives!"
"Any idea who?"
"No sir, but we're not taking chances, please come with us." Governor Craft nodded, then boarded the Valkyrie. The NCO sat down with him, strapping himself to his seat frantically. The Valkyrie hovered for but a moment, then gunned forward. Lord Craft found himself, yet again surveying the city. The Spire level of the city appeared untouched, but he knew that down below, there was mass chaos. Reports of raving cannibals and witches commanding hordes of rats were repeatedly being transmitted over the ground troop vox channels.
One of the Vendettas pulled up alongside the Valkyrie, and he could see the pilot clearly behind the glass. The pilot turned his gaze to the governor, and returned a curt salute, before exploding into a ball of fire. Lord Craft's eyes bulged, the pilot of the Valkyrie jinked the vehicle to the side and began calling out frantically over the vox. another vendetta streaked past them, its lascannon lancing through the sky.
"Lord Governor, hold on, we have enemy fighter!" The pilot called out. Craft's eyes surveyed the sky, he could see nothing, besides the squadron of Valkyries positioning themselves around his Valkyrie. Suddenly, another vendetta exploded and a sleek figure zoomed past at supersonic speeds. It was moving fast, but half a glimpse was all he needed to see. It was a chaos hellblade. The Traitor Legions were here. Fear found its way into the governor's heart. He was paralyzed, so much that he didn't even react when a shrieking missile connected with the Valkyrie, detonating its right jet engine.
"We're going down! I repeat we are going down!" The Pilot screamed, fighting with the controls as he tried with all of his skill to keep the ship from nose diving. All Lord Craft could do was watched in silent horror as three chaos hellblades tore up an entire squadron of vendetta gunships. The backdrop behind it was even more terrifying, as a chaos warship loomed in overhead. This sight soon disappeared as their ship sunk into the hive structure. The Pilot fought with all of his might, somehow dodging monumental hive stacks and hive structures.
"Brace yourselves!" The pilot screamed. The Noncommissioned officer next to him was reciting litanies of protection, but the Governor was silent. They were damned anyway.
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Post by joeofthemasks on Feb 28, 2013 14:06:52 GMT -5
Diomhaire held the side of the landing craft closely like a lover, trying not to loose his lunch amongst the Plague Marines. Why the whisperings of his mistress had led him to this war he could not fathom, a war sided with the Plague God was... unsettling to say the least. Nonetheless he served, and that serving gave him strength many of the bloated diseased bags wished they had. Somewhere on this world was another key for the traveling keeper, another secret that kept Slaanesh one step ahead of the other deamons, and Diomhaire would find it. He had to.
As the ship hit another wave of flak it bucked and rolled squashing Diomhaire's stomach around his body, he dry retched keeping his nutrients in again. The other occupants on the landing craft ignored him, almost as pointedly as he tried to ignore them. This mission would be so much simpler, thought the cultist, if I didn't have to stand amongst the ranks of Nurgles Own. The inner simperings of the man was shut off as the landing craft smashed into the earth of Erin Secundus, causing him to release his stomach upon the ground as the doors blew off. Standing up from the explosion Diomhaire called forth his warp fire and strode upon the surface of the suffering planet.
"I come to give you pleasures of death, they come to give the horrors of life, which will you choose Dogs of the Emperor?" The firing of half a dozen laz rifles was his answer. "Lets make you plead for death then." The Cultist unstrapped his chain as the Plague Marines walked forward, blasting into the hasty set barricades with their bolters.
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Post by gricken on Mar 3, 2013 8:58:03 GMT -5
Melchizar walked towards his arranged living area, too lost in thought to pay the world any attention. His own worries were chief in his mind, for he was sure they were more important than the menials going ons. That is of course, until he realized that for some reason, that none of those menials were outside.
".... Most curious" The Tech-priest stopped walking and looked around. Why on earth would any street in a hive city be empty? His thoughts were interuppted by a scuffling sound from a nearby alley. Melchizar cocked his head to the side. Normally he would dismiss it as some wild animal, or vagrant accosting some poor soul, both things beneath his notice. But today appeared not to be a normal day. He stopped closer, and was about to call a greeting when a... a thing jumped out at him.
Faster than most can react, Melchizar's Mechadendrite intercepted the thing, grabbing it around the neck and squeezing. It's skin was oddly soft, as if it was decaying. It didn't bleed, pus just seeped from the open wounds. Melchizar cocked his head, examine the creature. It looked human, for the most part, but decayed and bloated.
"Not any type of mutation I've heard of...." He thought. The creature tried grabbing the Mechadendrite and twisting it off, with little success. "But you are not a regular human. That only leaves one explanation." he said, slowly drawing his laspistol. "Warp scum" he shot it through the head, and torso again and again, not stopping until it finished moving.
He let it fall to the ground, no longer interested "So. This is what has kept the Governor busy" He said out loud. "Things are about to get very interesting." He continued his walk, deliberately stepping on the heretic's head. If the warp was coming to claim this planet, he was going to need to be more properly equipped to fend them off.
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verzuh
Nameless scum
Posts: 13
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Post by verzuh on Mar 4, 2013 9:35:54 GMT -5
As the white hot blast of air from her melta evaporated the zombies in front of her Sister Anna took a step backwards towards train car’s door behind her. As she pressed the opening rune she felt the air from outside blow into the car and a horrid stench with it. Fighting the urge to vomit she backpedaled out of the car, squeezing off another melta blast at the undead in the car as she went. No sooner was she out then door than her heart sank.
She hadn’t realized that the train had left the ground somewhere and was now stopped on a narrow elevated track. ‘Ok, one step at a time.’ She thought. ‘First get off the train and then report to the Lord Governor.’ Looking around the side of the train she spotted a station platform a hundred meters in the direction the train had been going.
A moan brought her attention back to the zombies in the car she’d just left. She quickly pulled the door closed and smashed the control rune with a power armored fist. ‘Get off the train.’ She slung her meltagun and reached for the top of the car. With a grunt she pulled herself up.
Up on top of the train she could hear the sound of bolter fire as she sprinted along the top of the cars. She could see that the train was long enough that some of fist cars reached the platform. As she reached on the first car she pointed her melta downward and burned herself a hole in the roof. ‘Get off the train.’
As she landed into the car the stench was even worse and she had to grit her teeth as she raised her meltagun to face the zombies in the car. Curiously, they were all faced towards the other door and only the ones in the back of the group acknowledged her. Anna didn’t hesitate and fired another melta blast, evaporating a number of the creatures and alerting the rest to her presence. She went fire again but the weapon was silent. Anna quickly ejected the spent canister and reached for another on her belt as the zombies got closer. She fumbled with the canister as one of the zombies was only a few feet from her. When its head exploded.
Anna didn’t question her luck. She finished reloading and evaporated more of the zombies as they looked behind them for where the bolt had come from. More bolter fire impacted the zombies in the car until all the corpses were dead. ‘Get off the train.’ Sister Anna started for the door when the massive power armored form of space marine in black armor stepped into the car.
‘Black Armor.’ Anna thought as she brought up her meltagun to point at him and he trained his bolter at her. They stood off for a moment and Anna studied the shoulder pauldren that she could see. Trying in vain to recognize the blood red fist on the blue background. After a moment there was the click of the external microphone from the marine’s helmet.
“I am Brother Kill-Marine Kald'r Manin. Deathwatch, Odros Xenos.” The marine said. Anna swallowed.
“Sister Anna, Order of the Penitent Heart. En route to report to the Lord Governor.” The marine lowered his weapon and Anna lowered hers.
“Then it seems that our objectives are the same.”
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Pyromaniac
Acolyte
Nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home
Posts: 51
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Post by Pyromaniac on Mar 4, 2013 22:38:11 GMT -5
Scelene continued muttering a steady stream of curses as she slowly found her way out of the underhive and back into the familiar territory her gang controlled. Or perhaps 'used to control' was more accurate.
The ganger ducked into the shadows as a group of the diseased looking figures neared her, their pounding footsteps alerting her to their presence long before she could see them. She covered her mouth as the figures moved past, resisting the urge to vomit and silently wondering how she could have anything left to keep down.
Once again alone, she considered heading to the abandoned warehouse her gang used as their main hangout, but she knew it was pointless. Everyone was dead. If they were still alive she would hear the gunfire, and the pounding beats of the aggressive music the gang favoured as they defended their territory from those... things.
She silently mulled over the fact that everyone she'd ever known was probably dead and tried to decide how that made her feel.
"Fuck 'em." She muttered returning her two weapons to their respective holsters. "Never liked them anyway..." That was a lie. There were one or two she considered friends. But it was a lie that she could believe in for the time being. Emotions could come later, for now she needed to get to a higher level. Maybe it was safer there. Maybe it wasn't. But it was a goal to move towards.
She kept to the shadows, avoiding contact with the things. As she ascended into the mid-hive there began to be ever increasing signs of battle, corpses the most obvious, the things mixed with civilians and PDF personnel.
She crouched next to a particularly well dressed corpse and rolled it over, relieving the unfortunate man of his valuables before continuing on.
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