|
 pre:The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike him as hard as you can, and keep moving on. - Colonel Stefan Jackard at the onset of the Orcus conflict - pre:Never, never, never believe any war will be smooth and easy, or that anyone who embarks on the strange voyage can measure the tides and hurricanes he will encounter. The leader who yields to war fever must realize that once the signal is given, he is no longer the master of policy but the slave of unforeseeable and uncontrollable events. - Warden-General Siegmund Tallahorn - Here's how it'll work: regular text for your character's actions, thoughts, and words. Italics for OOC chat and mechanical mumbo-jumbo. Like this: A Guardsman posted:
I'll do all the rolling so you just get to curse me as I fudge the gently caress out of them. This first post will also serve as the place where I'll gather all the names you need to know and the medals you've gained during the game. The game proper will start in the second post. 39th Luggnum Infantry Regiment commanding officers pre:Colonel Stefan Jackard (NPC) Captain Oscar Kallian, 22nd Company (NPC) pre:Lieutenant Brent Argyle (NPC) Vox-Operator Karl Brown (NPC) Commissar Attache Vorgen (Waci) Ministorum Attache Roland & Senior Penitent Jace (Werix) Mechanicum Attache Quintus & Servitor KAL-216/B (Olanphonia) pre:Sergeant Vorgen & Corporal Piot (Beer4TheBeerGod) Operator Vladmire & Trooper Mikhale (ilootthecorpse) Medic Nicholas & Trooper Jason (John Dyne) Weapons Specialist Gwendolyn & Trooper Isaac (Wahad) pre:None yet. HerraS fucked around with this message at Apr 5, 2013 around 20:08 |
| # ? Feb 15, 2013 19:27 |
|
|
|
| # ? May 24, 2013 17:26 |
|
|
The noise that the grinding gears and the metal screeching against metal make is like listening to a tunneler without your earplugs. Its been a long three months that youve spent on the troopship, the name of which you cant even remember. Three months of drilling, training, marching, praying, marching, drilling, eating, marching, praying, and now youre finally done. Some of you cant help but feel exited. The tight corridors of the starship reminded you somewhat of the tunnels back home, so it wasnt so bad. Not much you know about this planet, Orcus. Youve been told that its a mining colony. A penal mining colony. Folks whove broken the laws of the Emperor and His Imperium get rounded up and shipped here to be worked to death in penance. Only now theyve decided that they dont want to work no more, and thats why youre here. Nobody knows what to expect. Some people apparently cant wait to get to combat. Others would rather still be on the ship. All around you, some three thousand other guardsmen of your regiment are gathered in the belly of the dropship along with armored vehicles from the other regiments. You cant guess how many there are in total, only that there is a whole lot. Some people are whispering to each other. Most just keep staring at the massive landing ramp thats being lowered down to let you people out. Outside the dropship, you can finally see the place youve been brought to to fight for the Emperor. Above you is a reddish hue and no ceiling. Apparently planets dont have those on the outside, and this is called a sky. Whatever it is, it makes you nervous. Cant really relax without a comfortable, safe ceiling above your head and walls around you. No sir. The rest doesnt look inviting either. Grey, grey and more grey. Ash and dust kicked up by the dropships descent starts pouring inside, along with a draft that chills to the bones. Apparently this is called wind. Some people almost fall over by the force of it. Before anyone can really comment on the view outside, you can hear your platoon lieutenant yelling. Lieutenant Brent Argyle. A former Administratum clerk on Luggnum. Not much of a fighter, but youve heard hes awfully good with numbers and forms. All the company commanders and the colonel are former PDF, or so youve heard. Not that youve seen any yet. Alright people, we got about twenty minutes standard Terran before we need to be on the move. Luckily for you we landed close enough to our destination that we only need to march for a couple of hours some folks at landing zone Drusus werent so fortunate. Gather your gear and fall in formation. Follow the vehicle that me and the rest of the command squad is riding in. Having said that, he climbs inside a flattop truck with a canvas draped around it. All around you you hear engines being started and people getting ready to move. Boots clank against the metal floor of the ship as the 21st company starts moving out. The tanks gun their engines and start rolling out as well. Its an organized chaos. You have some time to talk amongst each other about the shithole that youve arrived in, or you can be brave and go talk to the command squad people. HerraS fucked around with this message at Feb 15, 2013 around 19:31 |
| # ? Feb 15, 2013 19:28 |
|
|
Gwendolyn "Gwen" Adamus Gwen plays idly with her knife as the company started moving, twirling it about in her hands. The whole 'open sky' business gives her a nervous itch, and when Gwen got nervous, she was prone to violence. A great habit when you're in the pits - not so much when you're in the army and are expected to fall in line. "What kind of hellish planet is this, anyway? I bet they don't even have any tunnels here at all and we're just here because somebody up high hates us or something." She voices her complaint without restraint, not caring much who hears her - all the important folk are in the truck, anyway. The young woman marches on, her face lowered in a brooding scowl. pre:Name; Gwendolyn "Gwen" Adamus Homeworld: Hive World Specialty: Weapon Specialist Demeanour: Boisterous Comrade: Isaac "Ike" Facessus Comrade Demeanour: Sensible WS - 38 (20 + 15 + 3 [Reg]) BS - 50 (20 + 20 + 5 [Spec]+ 5 [Adv]) S - 35 (20 + 15) T - 33 (20 + 10 + 3 [Reg]) Ag - 38 (20 + 15 + 3 [Reg]) Int - 22 (20 + 5 - 3 [Reg]) Per - 25 (20 + 5) Wi - 20 (20) Fel - 38 (20 + 15 + 3 [Reg]) Wounds: 11 Fate: 1 IP: 0 CP: 0 Logistics: 0 (10 for Demolitions) Aptitudes: Agility Ballistic Skill Fellowship Fieldcraft Finesse Weapon Skill Skills: Acrobatics Athletics Common Lore (Imperial Guard) Common Lore (Imperium) Common Lore (War) Deceive Linguistics (Low Gothic) Navigate (Surface) Tech-Use Talents: Blind Fighting Lightning Reflexes Nerves of Steel Paranoia Quick Draw Rapid Reaction Rapid Reload Street Fighting Weapon Training (Bolt) Weapon Training (Flame) Weapon Training (Las) Traits: Tunnel Snakes Tunnelbound Underground Hazards Commanding Officer: Choleric Training Doctrine: Hardened Fighters Special Equipment Doctrine: Demolitions Favored Weapons: Flamer, Heavy Bolter 800/800 XP spent Advances: Quick Draw (200) BS (Simple) (100) Acrobatics (Known) (100) Ambidextrous (200) Lightning Reflexes (200) Gear: [1] M36 Lasgun and 6 Charge Packs (Main Weapon) with added Melee attachment, Good craftsmanship * [1] Laspistol and 2 Charge packs (Sidearm), Common craftsmanship * [1] Flamer and Fuel cell (Basic), Common Craftsmanship [1] Sword, Common craftsmanship * [1] Knife, Common craftsmanship * [1] Suit of Imperial Flak Armor, Good craftsmanship * [1] Uniform [1] Set of poor weather gear [1] Rucksack [1] Set of basic tools [1] Mess kit and [1] Water canteen [1] Blanket and [1] Sleeping bag [1] Rechargeable lamp pack * [1] Grooming kit [1] Set of identification tags [1] Calixian edition Imperial Infantrymans Primer [2] Weeks supply of combat sustenance rations [1] Respirator * [4] Sandbags [1] Entrenching Tool [6] Frag Grenades * [2] Photon Flash Grenades * [1] Demolition charge * Wahad fucked around with this message at Feb 15, 2013 around 22:33 |
| # ? Feb 15, 2013 19:58 |
|
|
Viligan "I doubt it, Gwen. Feels almost like Yuletide to me. I can't wait to get back underground. Be just like home, only more dumbasses trying to pick a fight with the big guy." He's serious, too. A man his size could earn a small fortune in the pits. Viligan was very averse to it, though. He had a wife to think about back home. Sure, he might not be able to see her, possibly ever again, but she was carrying his son when he left. She'll treat him right, and he'll be there in letters and his Guard pension. Not much use for cash on the front lines, except a hot meal or good drink now and again. It's better spent back home, where it'll put food on the table and a roof over his family's heads. pre:Name: Viligan Dorsey Specialization: Heavy Comrade: Upton Vannegut Comrade Demeanour: Talkative Characteristics: WS: 43(20+20) +3 Doctrine BS: 40(20+20) S: 45(20+20) +5 Advance T: 53(20+20) +5 Specialty +3 Regiment +5 Advance Ag: 23(20+ 0) +3 Homeworld Int: 27(20+10) -3 Regiment Per: 30(20+10) WP: 20(20+ 0) Fel: 23(20+ 0) +3 Homeworld Wounds: 13/13 Fate: 1 IP: 0 CP: 0 Logistics: 0 (10 for Demolitions) Aptitudes: BS, Defense, Fellowship, Offense, Perception, Toughness Awards: Comrade Abilities: Skills: Athletics Common Lore (Imperium, Imperial Guard, War) Deceive Intimidate Linguistics (High Gothic) Tech Use Talents: Blind Fighting Iron Jaw Nerves of Steel Paranoia Street Fighting Weapon Training (Las, Low Tech, Heavy, Bolt) Traits: Tunnel Snakes: Not disoriented moving more than half speed in the dark Tunnelbound: -10 to survival tests out of an underground environment Doctrine - Demolitions: +10 Logistics to requisition Explosives, Grenades, Missiles and Special Tank Ammo Gear: [1] Common Quality Heavy Bolter [1] M36 Lasgun and 6 Charge Packs (Main Weapon) with added Melee attachment, Good craftsmanship * [1] Laspistol and 2 Charge packs (Sidearm), Common craftsmanship * [1] Sword, Common craftsmanship * [1] Knife, Common craftsmanship * [1] Suit of Imperial Flak Armor, Good craftsmanship * [1] Uniform [1] Set of poor weather gear [1] Rucksack [1] Set of basic tools [1] Mess kit and [1] Water canteen [1] Blanket and [1] Sleeping bag [1] Rechargeable lamp pack * [1] Grooming kit [1] Set of identification tags [1] Calixian edition Imperial Infantrymans Primer [2] Weeks supply of combat sustenance rations [1] Respirator * [4] Sandbags [1] Entrenching Tool [2] Frag Grenades * [2] Photon Flash Grenades * [1] Demolition charge * Advances: 650/800 Strength +5 - 250 Toughness +5 - 100 Bulging Biceps - 300
|
| # ? Feb 15, 2013 20:51 |
|
|
Father Rolad The Ministorum Attache looks down at his new flock. Many souls here to save. Many no doubt former pit fighters, though they would be wary to admit it to Father Proland. He hands most of his gear to Penitent Jace. Jace was the example to all of them as to what happens to pit fighters. Having been successful in the pits, Jace was one of the first fighters Roland encountered while aiding in the purge after what happened on the southern continent. Jace was given the choice: death or repent, and now he would repent on this field of battle, or he would die. Roland stands in the back of the truck facing outword, using it as a mobile altar from which to preach. "Come brothers and sisters! Today we do the Emperor's work! The men and women on this world transgressed against Him, and instead of being killed as the heretics they are, they were allowed to repent through labor. Yet they took that gift, and have spat in the God-Emperor's face with it! We shall dispense his justice, and salvation shall go to those who kill these wicked penals!" Father Roland looks at the guardsmen, and his eyes fall on Jace, still carrying all of his equipment and most of Roland's as Jace tries to climb into the truck. "No my son" Roland says, "your penance begins through hard work and labor." Jace marches along-side the Guardsmen. pre:Name: Father Roland Demeanor: pious Specialization: Ministorum Priest Comrade: Senior Penitent Jace Comrade Demeanor: Death-wish Characteristics: WS: 43 (20+20)+3 Training Doctrine BS: 20 (20+) S: 40 (20+20) T: 43 (20+20)+3 Regiment Ag: 33 (20+10)+3 Homeworld Int:17 (20+)-3 Regiment Per:30 (20+10) WP: 20 (20+) Fel:48 (20+20) +5 Specialty +3 Homeworld Wounds: 13/13 Fate: 1 IP: 0 CP: 0 Aptitudes: Fellowship, Leadership, Perception, Social, Strength, Weapon Skill, Willpower. Awards: Comrade Abilities: Skills: Command Inquiry Common Lore (Ecclesiarchy) Common Lore (Imperium) Forbidden Lore (Heresy) Scholastic Lore (Imperial Creed) Deceive Linguistics (Low Gothic) Parry Tech-Use Talents: Hatred (Heretics) Unshakeable Faith Weapon Training (Chain, Las,Flame, Low-Tech) Light Sleeper Nerves of Steel Street Fighting Traits: Tunnel Snakes: Not disoriented moving more than half speed in the dark Tunnelbound: -10 to survival tests out of an underground environment Doctrine - Demolitions: +10 Logistics to requisition Explosives, Grenades, Missiles and Special Tank Ammo Gear: [1] Ecclesiarchy robes, [1] Common Craftsmanship flamer [1] Common Craftsmanship chainsword [1] book of scripture. [1] M36 Lasgun and 6 Charge Packs (Main Weapon) with added Melee attachment, Good craftsmanship * [1] Laspistol and 2 Charge packs (Sidearm), Common craftsmanship * [1] Sword, Common craftsmanship * [1] Knife, Common craftsmanship * [1] Suit of Imperial Flak Armor, Good craftsmanship * [1] Uniform [1] Set of poor weather gear [1] Rucksack [1] Set of basic tools [1] Mess kit and [1] Water canteen [1] Blanket and [1] Sleeping bag [1] Rechargeable lamp pack * [1] Grooming kit [1] Set of identification tags [1] Calixian edition Imperial Infantrymans Primer [2] Weeks supply of combat sustenance rations [1] Respirator * [4] Sandbags [1] Entrenching Tool [2] Frag Grenades * [2] Photon Flash Grenades * [1] Demolition charge * Advances: 300/300 Parry 200 Command 100
|
| # ? Feb 15, 2013 21:27 |
|
|
Quintus Behr The ship had been really comforting. It had been nice to go from the familiar tunnels of his slab to another location filled with small access walkways and so much fascinating machinery. If only the crew had let him inspect the plasma drives, that would have been a treat. Of course they had turned him away with words about so-called "safety regulations". Undoubtedly the biggest change upon landing was the lack of a ceiling. Of course, Quintus knew that there were planets where one did not live under a metal roof at all times, but to see it in person was unsettling. He pauses briefly to re-regulate his breathing, it wouldn't do for a member of the Omnissiah's priesthood to show uncertainty. Spotting two of the troopers designated as being in Company 22, Platoon 6, Squad 1 already in conversation, Quintus falls in step beside them and makes the sign of the Cog. "Imperial records designate this as a penal mining world, we have certainly been chosen for this task by command for our expertise in such environments." His mechadendrites occasionally reach over to the servitor trailing him and adjust the kitbag (obviously belonging to the Enginseer) which seems to have a tendency to nearly slip off its shoulders. "KAL, straighten up, you've been practicing to carry that for weeks now." The servitor, for his part, says nothing. pre:Name: Quintus Behr Specialization: Tech-Priest Enginseer Servitor: KAL-216/B Characteristics: WS: 38 (35 + 3 Regiment) BS: 30 S: 30 T: 33 (30 + 3 Regiment) Ag: 31 (28 + 3 Regiment) Int: 42 (35 3 Regiment + 5 Speciality + 5 Advance) Per: 30 (30 + 3 Regiment) WP: 30 Fel: 28 Wounds: 12/12 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3900813/) Fate: 1 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3900817/) IP: 0 CP: 0 Aptitudes: Ballistic Skill Intelligence Knowledge Strength Tech Toughness Weapon Skill Willpower Comrade Abilities: Skills: Common Lore (Imperium, Adeptus Mechanicus, Tech) Deceive Forbidden Lore (Adeptus Mechanicus) Linguistics (Low Gothic, Techna Lingua) Logic Medicae Security Tech-Use +10 Talents: Blind Fighting Mechadendrite Use (Utility, Weapon) Nerves of Steel Paranoia Rapid Reaction Street Fighting Technical Knock Weapon Training (Las, Power) Traits: Mechanicus Implants: Electro-graft, Electoo Inductors, Respirator Unit (+20 vs airborne toxins and gas weapons), Cyber-mantle, Potentia Coil, Cranial Circuitry Tunnel Snakes: Not disoriented moving more than half speed in the dark Tunnelbound: -10 to survival tests out of an underground environment Doctrine - Demolitions: +10 Logistics to requisition Explosives, Grenades, Missiles and Special Tank Ammo Gear: [1] M36 Lasgun and 6 Charge Packs (Main Weapon) with added Melee attachment, Good craftsmanship [1] Laspistol and 2 Charge packs (Sidearm), Common craftsmanship [1] Sword, Common craftsmanship [1] Knife, Common craftsmanship [1] Suit of Imperial Flak Armor, Good craftsmanship [1] Uniform [1] Set of poor weather gear [1] Rucksack [1] Set of basic tools [1] Mess kit and [1] Water canteen [1] Blanket and [1] Sleeping bag [1] Rechargeable lamp pack * [1] Grooming kit [1] Set of identification tags [1] Calixian edition Imperial Infantrymans Primer [2] Weeks supply of combat sustenance rations [1] Respirator [4] Sandbags [1] Entrenching Tool [2] Frag Grenades [2] Photon Flash Grenades [1] Demolition charge [1] Sacred Ungents [1] Data Slate [1] Combi-tool [1] Utility mechadendrite (counts as combi-tool) [1] Good Craftsmanship MIU [1] Autosanguine [1] Manipulator Mechadendrite Advances: 500/500 Intelligence (Simple) (100) Medicae (200) Security (100) Linguistics (Techna Lingua) (100) Olanphonia fucked around with this message at Feb 15, 2013 around 21:54 |
| # ? Feb 15, 2013 21:42 |
|
|
Commissar Vorgen Unnerved at the lack of a visible ceiling, Vorgen takes a moment to compose himself. He was a commissar now. Couldn't look horrified by anything, especially not geography. If the penals could handle it, so could he. Lead by example and all that. Having gotten a hold of himself, he resets his face to something more neutral than shocked and walks over to the truck with the canvas, which suddenly looks a lot more solid than it did before. After double checking in his mind that this was in fact the truck designated for the platoon 6 command squad, and that he was in fact a part of the platoon 6 command squad, he climbs on and takes a seat. pre:Name: Vorgen Specialization: Commissar Characteristics: BS:25 WS:43 S:40 T:40 Ag:30 Int:20 Per:25 Wil:30 Fel:41 Wounds: 13/13 Fate:2/2 IP:0 CP:0 Aptitudes: Agility, Fellowship, Perception, Willpower, Weapon Skill, Finesse, Leadership Skills: Command Common Lore (Imperium, Imperial Guard) Deceive Linquistics (Low Gothic) Scholastic Lore (Tactica Imperialis) Parry Talents: Blind Fighting Rapid Reaction Nerves of Steel Street Fighting Paranoia Air of Authority Unshakeable Faith Weapon Training (Bolt, Chain, Las) Swift Attack Traits: Tunnel Snakes Tunnelbound Underground Hazards Gear: [1] Chainsword, Good craftmanship [1] Bolt Pistol, Good craftmanship [1] Commissar's uniform [1] M36 Lasgun and 6 Charge Packs (Main Weapon) with added Melee attachment, Good craftsmanship [1] Laspistol and 2 Charge packs (Sidearm), Common craftsmanship * [1] Sword, Common craftsmanship [1] Knife, Common craftsmanship [1] Suit of Imperial Flak Armor, Good craftsmanship [1] Set of poor weather gear [1] Rucksack [1] Set of basic tools [1] Mess kit and [1] Water canteen [1] Blanket and [1] Sleeping bag [1] Rechargeable lamp pack [1] Grooming kit [1] Set of identification tags [1] Calixian edition Imperial Infantrymans Primer [2] Weeks supply of combat sustenance rations [1] Respirator [4] Sandbags [1] Entrenching Tool [2] Frag Grenades [2] Photon Flash Grenades [1] Demolition charge XP (Spent): 300/300 Swift Attack - 300 Known Parry - 200 Waci fucked around with this message at Feb 15, 2013 around 22:15 |
| # ? Feb 15, 2013 22:10 |
|
|
Sergeant Vorgen, "The Hammer" Vorgen grimaces as he marches in formation with his squad. Something in the air made the skin beneath his mask itch and he knew there wasn't a drat thing he could do about it. He briefly contemplates taking the chainsword to his face but decides to focus his anger elsewhere. Gwen's vibe is the perfect catalyst. "It's the type of planet we die on, Adamus. Get used to it. Nobody gives a shaftrat's rear end if we like the ground we're buried in." The left side of his face is set into a permanent scowl as he maintains pace behind the cocksuckers who get to ride. The priest's words perk him up a bit. "See?" he says to his squad, "there's assholes out there worse off than you. And we get to kill 'em." The prospect of killing people always made Vorgen just a bit cheerier. pre:
Beer4TheBeerGod fucked around with this message at Mar 18, 2013 around 20:52 |
| # ? Feb 15, 2013 22:12 |
|
Name: Sergeant Vorgen, "The Hammer"
Specialization: Sergeant
Comrade: Piot
Comrade Demeanour: Green
Characteristics:
WS: 40 20 17 +3
BS: 25 20 5
S: 40 20 20
T: 30 20 7 +3
Ag: 40 20 17 +3
Int: 20 20 3 -3
Per: 20 20 0
WP: 35 20 15
Fel: 44 20 16 +3 +5
Wounds: 13
Fate: 2
IP: 0
CP: 0
Logistics: 0 (+10 Ordnance)
Aptitudes:
Defence
Fellowship
Leadership
Perception
Strength
Toughness
Weapon Skill
Awards:
Comrade Abilities:
Skills:
Command
Common Lore (Imperium)
Deceive
Dodge
Linguistics (Low Gothic)
Navigate (Surface)
Parry
Tech-Use
Talents:
Ambidextrous
Combat Master
Iron Discipline
Nerves of Steel
Paranoia
Rapid Reaction
Street Fighting
Weapon Training (Chain, Las, Low-Tech)
Traits:
Tunnel Snakes: Not disoriented moving more than half speed in the dark
Tunnelbound: -10 to survival tests out of an underground environment
Doctrine - Demolitions: +10 Logistics to requisition Explosives, Grenades, Missiles and Special Tank Ammo
Gear:
[1] M36 Lasgun and 6 Charge Packs (Main Weapon) with added Melee attachment, Good craftsmanship and added Exterminator attachment, Common craftsmanship *
[2] Laspistol and 2 Charge packs (Sidearm), Common craftsmanship *
[1] Chainsword, Common Craftsmanship *
[1] Sword, Common craftsmanship *
[1] Knife, Common craftsmanship *
[1] Suit of Imperial Flak Armor, Good craftsmanship *
[1] Uniform
[1] Set of poor weather gear
[1] Rucksack
[1] Set of basic tools
[1] Mess kit and [1] Water canteen
[1] Blanket and [1] Sleeping bag
[1] Rechargeable lamp pack *
[1] Grooming kit
[1] Set of identification tags
[1] Calixian edition Imperial Infantrymans Primer
[2] Weeks supply of combat sustenance rations
[1] Respirator *
[4] Sandbags
[1] Entrenching Tool
[2] Frag Grenades *
[2] Photon Flash Grenades *
[2] Demolition Charges *
[3] Fire Bombs *
[1] Magnoculars *
[1] Pair of Recoil Gloves *
Advances: 800/800
Dodge (Known) 100
Parry (Known) 100
Ambidextrous 300
Combat Master 300
|
 Vladmire, Boot driver Vladmire and Mikhale had spent a large majority of their training learning how to operate the Guard's engines of war. They had been shown how to awaken or sooth the stalwarts machine spirits of Chimeras and the how to rouse the roaring anger of a Lamen Russ. When the ship had come close to orbit Vladmire was even a bit excited to be able to drive one down the ramp of the carriers and out onto a new world. He didn't get to. His boot was nearly lost in a sucking, muddy morass as he tried to keep up with his squad. He labored under his pack, constantly off balance while he tried to take in all of the sights. Even with all of the open 'sky' above him he was still tempted to crouch, just like back home in the service tunnels. Mikhale whistled. "Would you look at all that. Big, bright fucker, ain't she cuz?" Vladmire only nodded in agreement. Vladmire could hear the gruff, angry voice of their sergeant up ahead, sounding chipper as always. "We better get up there, Mikey. I don't want Sarg to pick us out as the slow ones the first day off the boat." Mikhale shrugged and lit up a Lho. "He'll figure it out eventually," he said matter-of-factly. Just the same the two hiked up their rucks and jogged to the rear of the formation, falling in behind Gwen and Viligan. pre:Name: Vladmire Odendall Specialization: Operator Comrade: Mikhale Odendall Comrade Demeanour: Gambler Characteristics: WS: 30(20+ 7) +3 Doctrine BS: 35(20+15) S: 30(20+10) T: 30(20+ 7) +3 Regiment Ag: 42(20+14) +3 Homeworld +5 Specialty Int: 37(20+20) -3 Regiment Per: 35(20+12) +3 Homeworld WP: 35(20+15) Fel: 20(20+ 0) Wounds: 10/10 Fate: 1 IP: 0 CP: 0 Logistics: 0 (10 for Demolitions) Aptitudes: Agility, BS, Fellowship, Fieldcraft, Intelligence, Tech Awards: Comrade Abilities: Skills: Athletics Common Lore (Imperium, Tech) Deceive Dodge Linguistics (Low Gothic) Navigate (Surface) Operate (Surface) Security Stealth Tech-Use +10 Trade (Technomat) Talents: Blind Fighting Heightened Senses (Hearing) Nerves of Steel Rapid Reaction Street Fighting Technical Knock Weapon training (Las, Low-tech) Traits: Tunnel Snakes: Not disoriented moving more than half speed in the dark Tunnelbound: -10 to survival tests out of an underground environment Doctrine - Demolitions: +10 Logistics to requisition Explosives, Grenades, Missiles and Special Tank Ammo Gear: [1] M36 Lasgun and 6 Charge Packs (Main Weapon) with added Melee attachment, Good craftsmanship * [1] Laspistol and 2 Charge packs (Sidearm), Common craftsmanship * [1] Sword, Common craftsmanship * [1] Knife, Common craftsmanship * [1] Suit of Imperial Flak Armor, Good craftsmanship * [1] Uniform [1] Set of poor weather gear [1] Rucksack [1] Set of basic tools [1] Mess kit and [1] Water canteen [1] Blanket and [1] Sleeping bag [1] Rechargeable lamp pack * [1] Grooming kit [1] Set of identification tags [1] Calixian edition Imperial Infantrymans Primer [2] Weeks supply of combat sustenance rations [1] Respirator * [4] Sandbags [1] Entrenching Tool [2] Frag Grenades * [2] Photon Flash Grenades * [1] Demolition charge * [1] Auspex [1] Common MIU [1] Combi-tool [1] Data-slate [1] Lascutter Advances: 700/800 Dodge 300 Security 100 Stealth 100 Trade (Technomat) 100 Navigate (Surface) 100
|
| # ? Feb 16, 2013 08:26 |
|
|
 Dr. Volgin "With any touch of skill and luck, there won't be anyone dying on my watch, Vorgen. You should be a little more optimistic, my friend! You have the best doctor in all of Luggnum to put you back together!" Nicholas chuckles as he tries to keep pace with the mountainous sergeant. He winces against the wind, instinctively clapping a hand over his helmet as if he expected it to fly off. Originally from an icy imperial world, Nick was nonplussed by the sky and wind; it certainly was about as cheery as home, and was a welcome change from the tunnels. He'd grown accustomed to them, but a man sometimes yearns for the dismal skies and lovely weather. Nick looks hilariously out of place in a guard uniform, looking every bit like the misplaced noble. After getting a look at himself in the mirror earlier before landing, he debated his decision to keep his beard. The doctor sighs, adjusting the strap on the shoulder holster for his laspistol. Jason, the intern assigned with him, carried both men's rifles; Jason was more suited to the military pursuits, and looked like the picture perfect, stereotypical soldier. Name: Nicholas Volgin Specialization: Medic Demeanor: Green Comrade: Jason Comrade Demeanor: Sensible Advances: 0/600 Medicae +10 (200 XP) BS +5 (200 XP) Int +5 (100 XP) Per +5 (100 XP) Characteristics: WS: 23 (20+3) BS: 45 (20+20+5) S: 20 T: 33 (20+3+10) Ag: 33 (20+3+10) Int: 47 (20+5-3+20+5) Per: 48 (20+3+20+5) WP: 40 (20+20) Fel: 20 Aptitudes: Ballistic Skill, Fieldcraft,, Intelligence, Knowledge, Perception, Willpower. Wounds: 10/10 Fate: 1/1 IP: 0 CP: 0 Logistics: Comrade Abilities: N/A Skills: Medicae +10 Scholastic Lore (Chymistry) Scrutiny Common Lore (Imperium) Deceive Linguistics (Low Gothic) Tech-Use Talents: Jaded, Weapon Training (Las, Low-Tech) Blind Fighting Paranoia Rapid Reaction Nerves of Steel Street Fighting Jaded Traits: - Tunnel Snakes: Dont get disoriented when moving faster than Half Speed in darkness. - Tunnelbound: -10 to survival tests not made underground. Gear: [1] Diagnostor - +20 to Medicae/Perception to determine ailments. [1] Injector [1] Medikit - +20 to Medicae [1] M36 Lasgun and 6 Charge Packs (Main Weapon) with added Melee attachment, Good craftsmanship * [1] Laspistol and 2 Charge packs (Sidearm), Common craftsmanship * [1] Sword, Common craftsmanship * [1] Knife, Common craftsmanship * [1] Suit of Imperial Flak Armor, Good craftsmanship * [1] Uniform [1] Set of poor weather gear [1] Rucksack [1] Set of basic tools [1] Mess kit and [1] Water canteen [1] Blanket and [1] Sleeping bag [1] Rechargeable lamp pack * [1] Grooming kit [1] Set of identification tags [1] Calixian edition Imperial Infantrymans Primer [2] Weeks supply of combat sustenance rations [1] Respirator * [4] Sandbags [1] Entrenching Tool [2] Frag Grenades * [2] Photon Flash Grenades * [1] Demolition charge *
|
| # ? Feb 16, 2013 14:43 |
|
|
The truck engine roars to life and it begins to slowly make it's way out of the dropship. The rest of the squads in your platoon fall in formation after you, their sergeants barking orders, not wanting to look bad the first day of their front-line service. Squad one gets into formation as well, following the truck tha the command squad is riding in. All around you you can hear thousands of boots marching and the guardsmen talking with each other. Though every now and then you can hear someone complain already, the mood is mostly cheery. After all, what greater glory is there than getting to fight against the enemies of the God-Emperor and his Imperium? You certainly can't think of any. As Father Roland begins his fiery sermon from the back of the truck, lieutenant Argyle gathers the rest of the command squad around himself, pulling a brown envelope from his officer's jacket. "Well, I guess I better explain just what is going on this rock. At least as much as the captain has decided we need to know. About a year ago, standard Terran, the penal workforce here attacked an Administratum vessel's crew that was here to collect the mineral tithes. Everyone who was present at the landing zone was either killed or captured. Command figures that the insurrection has been brewing a lot longer than that." "Now the biggest problem is that there is a sizeable defence force deployed here to keep the criminals in check. There's no way the scum would've been able to annihilate the Administarum force without working with them, so we have to assume that everyone here is a rebel - criminals, defence force, even the clerks in charge of handling the numbers. The defence force is led by a Warden-General Tallahorn, an old Guard veteran who was posted here about twelve years ago, standard Terran. Most sources say that he detested this assignment, but nevertheless he sucked it up and took charge here. All reports indicated that things were going smoothly until the massacre, so either Tallahorn is just really good at masking his intentions or no one ever bothered to check more closely what's going on here. For now, command assumes that Tallahorn is the leader of this little rebellion with both the defence force and the prisoners following his orders." "Now had everyting gone as planned, we would identify the most importang strongholds the rebels hold, siege them and capture them. But this is not going to be as simple as that." Finishing his sentence, he draws a map from the envelope, presenting it to everyone.  "The blue squares represent our Luggnum regiments, the greenish ones are the armored regiments and the brown ones the two artillery regiments. This is just a rough estimate. The black dots mark current rebel strongholds on this continent. They're mostly connected by underground railways, so clearing all of them out is going to be rough. Sword Canyon is the most important target - it's where the main defence garrison and all the administrative staff was positioned. It's also a hell of a fortress, so taking it is going to get ugly. Now no doubt you've noticed the big green blob north that says 'Orks'. That's our most immediate problem. Our navy recon missions indicate that the Orks are currently regrouping after their landing and heading south, towards us. That's why we will meet them at this bottleneck the mountains so conveniently provide us and hopefully slaughter enough of them to drive them back. I've been told Orks aren't into strategy or tactics that much, so it shouldn't cause too much of a delay. Our company is located at the very eastern tip of the bottleneck along with fourteen other companies, with one artillery regiment behind us. Our job will be to keep the orks in the bottleneck and counter-attack once most of their offence has petered out. Estimates give us anything from two weeks to two months, standard Terran, to prepare our defences before they get to us. We still don't know wheter or not they're going to try and fight the rebels, but of course everyone hopes they do. I, uh, I guess that's all for know, unless anyone has any questions or anything else to say. I'll give the men a small briefing once we reach our designated part of the front line." Outside, the guardsmen start marching in formation on the dust and ash covered soil towards their destination. To the left and right you can see great mountain ranges on the horizon, reminding you of some of the vox-picts you've seen of Luggnum from the outside. The air is chilly and the dust and ash keeps getting everywhere. Around you, you can hear men from the other squads talking to each other. "Did ya see who's the sarge for squad one? Ogryn-brain, that's who. Didn't he have one of those stupid nicknames, something like 'the Piston' or something?" "I heard from a cousin of mine who's buddy got drafted that these Orks like to eat anyone they catch alive. You're better off putting a bullet in your head if you get cut off..." "I read somewhere that Commissars - those people in the funny caps, aye? I've read they shoot anyone who doesn't do as they so. Lucky us to get one in our platoon." "Did you see that red robed fellow who has a servitor following him around? What's up with him, eh?" "Have you seen some of the guns we're bringing here? A lad could sleep inside one of those things!" Inside the truck, the lieutenant seems to remember something and mutters to his vox-caster. The man obediently carries his bulky instrument to the back end of the truck and opens the channel, fixing a large horn to the side of the machine. "Don't know what this is all about, but the captain made it very clear the colonel expects every squad to keep their vox open like this when we start marching." The lieutenant notes. As you being your arduous jorney to your destination, you suddenly hear the tunes of an Imperial marching song blasting over every vox in hearing distance.
|
| # ? Feb 16, 2013 15:34 |
|
|
Commissar Vorgen When the vox comes to life, Vorgen immediately feels uplifted, both by the inspiring marching song and the notable lack of actual marching on his part. He whistles along with the flutes, until he remembers he's supposed to be the serious executing deserters type. He sits quiet, happy that everything appears to be going well.
|
| # ? Feb 16, 2013 16:22 |
|
|
Gwen "Two months without a roof over my head. Just my fuckin' luck." Gwen growls under her breath. She is less enthusiastic about her complaining after the sergeant's remark - he's right, of course. But then Gwen had no intention of dying. The Hammer was a legend in the fighting pits, and a bit of a personal hero for Gwen, despite his sour demeanour. With their forces combined, surely the whole issue of the Orks would only be a matter of waiting for them to arrive before wrapping it up cleanly. That's just how good they were. But then if anything riled her bones more than the open sky, it was waiting. She trods forward as the marching song blasts over the regiment, mostly ignoring it until Isaac, too, starts to whistle along. She smiles, glad to have him along for the ride, and joins in for the hell of it. For clarification, which particular blue square are we at? Either Argyle doesn't know east from west or the artillery regiments from the armored regiments, going off of that description. Or I lack reading comprehension. You know, whichever. Wahad fucked around with this message at Feb 16, 2013 around 17:51 |
| # ? Feb 16, 2013 16:32 |
|
|
Father Roland Roland's fiery speech ends when the music picks up. He looks back at the command staff angrily. "If we are not going to listen to my sermon, an uplifting Imperial Hymn would have been appropriate." Roland sits down, taking the briefing material and looking it over. "Excellent, we get to vanquish the Alien and the Heretic. Throw in a few rogue psykers and we have the trifecta." When Roland says that, there is not one ounce of sarcasm, but with hope and zeal. "Worry not about the men's fighting spirit, Commissar Vorgen and I shall make sure they fight with zeal or fear; both serve the Emperor well."
|
| # ? Feb 16, 2013 16:36 |
|
|
Vladmire, Shark Though Vladmire had only been in the guard for a very short time he had noticed that a majority of it was just waiting round until somebody with a bigger hat told you what to do. Once all of the gear was staged and loaded where it needed to be there wasn't much to do other than try to stay warm and stave off boredom. Vladmire and Mikhale pulled up a couple of boxes next to the rumbling engine of one of the vehicles where it was warm. Mikhale pulled out a tarot deck and started to shuffle. The noise immediately drew more guardsmen like tunnel rats to a fresh meal. In no time at all the two cousins and a few of the other boys were playing a hand with a dozen Lhos laid out on a crate between them all. Mikhale was all bluster and bravado when he tossed down hammers and stars. The man to his left quickly snarled and threw his cards face down. Vladmire only smiled. Mikhale already knew what was coming and shot his cousin a rude gesture across the crate. "Really? Already with this, crap. Fine, take your drat lhos, ya cheatin' bastard. You don't even smoke 'em. Fuckin' waste." Vladmire shrugged and tossed down his three bishops then scooped up the smokes. "Who's in for another hand?"
|
| # ? Feb 16, 2013 17:11 |
|
|
Sergeant Vorgen As soon as the Lt. starts talking Vorgen is once again reminded of why he hates the man. In the pits you didn't care about who was on the other side of the ring, or how he got there, or what his motivation was. All you needed to know was what he was armed with and how much of a badass he was. If that long-winded diatribe was an explanation he shuddered to think what a "small briefing" would be. The war would probably be over before he finished. When Argyle finishes Vorgen speaks up. "Yeah, Sir I have a question. What's an ork?"
|
| # ? Feb 16, 2013 17:29 |
|
|
Hearing the sergeant who most people in the platoon now know as 'Ogryn-Head' speak up, the lieutenenat pokes his head from the back of the truck. "Umm, I'm not so sure. I mean the handbook says they're these slow-witted, almost animal like creatures that move in massive herds. A single one shouldn't pose much threat to a guardsman who has hid head on properly and a lasgun in his hands. They get easily confused by loud noises and sudden movements, they're bigger than us but still weaker because of, err, something. Their guns tend to break in the middle of fighting and, well, I guess that covers most of it. You can read about them in the handbook if you want to know more, sergeant."
|
| # ? Feb 16, 2013 17:45 |
|
|
Quintus Quintus perks up upon hearing a snippet of conversation discussing "red robed fellows" and what seemed to be a question about what was "up" with him. A perfect opportunity to spread the message of the Holy Machine to potential menials! Quintus quickly shuffles his way towards the troopers and makes the sign of the Cog. "Hello trooper, I am Enginseer Quintus Behr, attached to Company 22, Platoon 6 Command Squad. I could not help but overhear your question and I would like to enlighten you to the glories of the Machine and the Omnissiah as well as my function." Quintus' mechadendrites gesticulate in a somewhat alarming manner; swooping around and nearly smacking the nearby servitor several times. He draws himself up to his full height and continues, "You see, every machines from your dataslate, to your lasgun, to the mighty Leman Russ pattern tanks of the armored regiments nearby, has a soul called the 'machine spirit'. When you recite the Litany of Loading or the Litany of the Lasgun you are reciting prayers written by the Martian Priesthood to ensure that the machine spirit in your lasgun understands and accepts what you are hoping to accomplish." Quintus continues on in this vein for several excruciatingly boring minutes before finally coming to a conclusion. "I hope that this has been informative, do not hesitate to seek more knowledge in the future. Perhaps even you could become a member of a tech priest's tech-guard retinue!" Without waiting for a response, he promptly turns and moves back to flank Gwen and Viligan. Today was starting out wonderfully! pre:WS BS S T Ag Int Per WP Fel 38 30 30 33 31 42 30 30 28 Wounds: 12/12 Fate: 1/1 Armour: All 4 Good flak armor; 5 for first hit of the encounter. Servitor: KAL-216/B Status: Healthy Noteworthy Abilities: - Common Lore (Imperium, Adeptus Mechanicus, Tech) - Forbidden Lore (Adeptus Mechanicus) Olanphonia fucked around with this message at Feb 17, 2013 around 14:35 |
| # ? Feb 16, 2013 18:26 |
|
|
Sergeant Vorgen Unaware of his new name, Vorgen take the Lieutenant's information at face value. "Right. Big dumb animals. Easy killing. Got it."
|
| # ? Feb 16, 2013 18:29 |
|
|
Father Roland After the Tech-priest gave his little sales pitch about his Machine God, Roland almost launched into a tirade about how one only need trust in the Emperor, but decided against it. Like it or not, the Tech-priests are necessary to keep the machines running, even if they are almost heretics. At the sergeant's question the priest raises his voice for all to hear over the marching music, "All any of you need to know is that the Orks are foul Xenos and the enemies of mankind, and it is your duty as humans to slay the Xenos for the Emperor! Through killing His enemies can Salvation be Earned!"
|
| # ? Feb 16, 2013 19:21 |
|
|
Dr. Volgin Nicholas listens to the commander prattle about orks, looking entirely confused as he flips through his own manual. He nudges Vorgen gently, holding the open book for him. "Says here they shouldn't be a problem for us properly trained Imperial Infantrymen; no smarter than plants, really." He flips the page, studying the text. "Ah, their lack of strength, here we go. Their muscle tissue is actually less dense than ours, so despite their intimidating physique, they're actually about as strong as a mewling grox. Strange.. it says they're larger than us.." The doctor flips back a few pages, pointing at a picture within the book. "But this diagram on the proper use of a bayonet shows them much smaller than us. Peculiar." 
|
| # ? Feb 17, 2013 05:58 |
|
|
Quintus Quintus knew that he had gotten back at just the right time (Praise be to the Omnissiah!) as he recognized that the good doctor's conversation with his appointed aide was another good opportunity for him to ingratiate himself with the ranks through the spread of knowledge. Every being, of course, valued the acquisition of knowledge and would be grateful to be able to incorporate new information (even if they hadn't been blessed with upgrades to their flesh brains). This increase in camaraderie would undoubtedly increase squad efficiency and therefore allow them to better achieve the objectives in the future! "Doctor Volgin, it is likely that they illustrations are of the xenos species designated as 'gretchin'. These xenos are related to orks, but are smaller than an average adult human. They typically accompany orks and can serve as expendable personnel or as food sources for the orks."
|
| # ? Feb 17, 2013 14:47 |
|
|
Viligan "Ah, come on, doc. You know those were probably drawn by some poor scribe who never had to see an ork in his life. Probably got some secondhand action described to him and that's what he made. Tell you what, you get us a pict recorder and we'll get him some real footage. Then he can make a proper ork doodle for the next edition, eh?"
|
| # ? Feb 17, 2013 15:04 |
|
|
Mathias Mathisson Listening with half an ear as the newbies discuss orks is always a painful experience. The first few times he'd been deployed with fresh blood, Mathias had tried explaining orks to the grunts, but they always figured he was just trying to make more out of himself and overstating their deadliness. These days, Mathias was content to keep an eye on them in the battle. They'd learn the hard way, like so many others have, including Mathias. Arrogance and superiority seemed to be two most important traits to the guard, and nothing got you killed quicker. There was probably some deep insight to be found if he followed the line of thought, but Mathias decided not to. Leave that to the pencil pushers and brass. Looking up from his reverie, Mathias notices they're still discussing orks. The tech priest is preaching like only the cogheads can, and with a shock, Mathias realizes it is actually relevant information. After the initial trauma of finding a cog head with even a bare minimum of sense passes, Mathias studies the rest of the group. A bunch of zealots and misfits. Business as usual in the guard then. Mathias would fit right in.
|
| # ? Feb 17, 2013 17:02 |
|
|
As the guardsmen continue their march, you can suddenly hear loud rumbling behind. "Watch out for the tanks!" Somebody yells. Between the infantrymen the vehicles of the armored regiments start moving up. You can recognize some of the dozens of vehicles driving forward. Leman Russ battle tanks. Basilisk artillery pieces. Hellhounds. Sentinel walkers. Bombards, Colossuses, Medusas and Hydras. Some of the men ride atop of their tanks, cheering and yelling at the infantry grunts as they drive past. Some have written phrases like 'Bringing the God-Emperor's love' and 'Uncle Drusus sends His regards' on their armored vehicles. One artillery crew slows down as they drive past you, giving you a mocking salute. "Don't keep us waiting for too long, boots! We gotta war to win, eh!?" Laughing, they continue their drive past you. Some people choke on the massive amounts of dust and ash kicked up by their passing. "Bloody asswipes!" Inside the truck, the lieutenant seems troubled by the silence that has fallen over everyone. Turning towards the Commissar and the Storm Trooper, he clears his throat. "So, mister commissar, mister Mathisson, you grew up in the Progenia? What was that like? This is the first time I've ever been outside by administarum office block on Luggnum. I was kinda surprised myself when they told me I was going to be a lieutenant. I've heard they have very strict rules there, almost like a monastery. No doubt you've seen plenty of combat actions already, so I hope you cut me some slack." He gives you a hopeful smile. Outside, the mood relaxes and people start gathering around each other as they march, no longer bothering to keep in formation. Members of the platoon catch up to your squad to converse with you. "Oy, Adamus, you got Ogryn-Brain as your sarge? What's he like? I heard you both used to fight in the pits. Have you tested him out already?" "Get a tube-charge up your rear end, Vladimire. I frakkin' know you cheated on those cards and before our tour is over I'm breaking even, mark my words." "Hey doc, this marching is turning my feet into mush. Think you could talk the lieutenant into letting me ride the rest of the way? I'll pay you back!" "Hey Piston! Heard you're supposed to be some tough pit fighter. Maybe you'd want to see just how good you are? Some of our guys managed to smuggle a couple of bottles with us. Just don't let that commissar hear about them or we're all dead, eh?" "How long do you think we're going to end up being here, Viligan? From what I've seen I've gotten enough of this place already..."
|
| # ? Feb 17, 2013 21:20 |
|
|
Commissar Vorgen When the lieutenant starts speaking, Vorgen looks up. "Yea, grew up in a schola progenium, and the rules are strict all right. Didn't go straight to the commissariat from there, though. Couldn't really wrap my head around the tactics stuff. Was with the arbites on Luggnum, when they drafted us into the guard they spent a while beating me on the head with the Tactica Imperialis and gave me the hat. I've no more experience with war than you do, lieutenant." Right... address the man by his rank, answer questions form officers... everything seemed to be in check. Waci fucked around with this message at Feb 17, 2013 around 22:23 |
| # ? Feb 17, 2013 21:22 |
|
|
Maybe you should write faster cupcake 
|
| # ? Feb 17, 2013 21:45 |
|
|
Viligan "Can't say, man. We're here until the Emperor shines his light down upon this world again. Bastards who run this place have decided to hide from that light, so we're going to turn over the rocks they're hiding under and make them see it. Could take a while. This place has a lot of rocks. But hell, that's why they called us in."
|
| # ? Feb 17, 2013 22:05 |
|
|
Gwen "Are you kidding me?" Gwen shudders at the thought. "Have you actually seen him fight? He'd break me in half! I mean, don't get me wrong, I can probably win a one-on-one with most of the people walking around here, but Sarge is a different animal entirely. This one fight, he just stood there for like fifteen minutes straight while this other guy was wailing on him, and then caved his skull in with a single blow. It got to the point where only idiots who'd never been to the pits before asked to be matched up against him. The rest of us were just off in a league of our own. You know, for the guys who actually want a contest when they fight." Pausing, she sizes up the man talking to her, before glowering at him. "Friendly tip, by the way, don't let him hear you call him Ogryn-brain. You know, if you don't want to donate your various internal organs to the charity of pain."
|
| # ? Feb 17, 2013 22:10 |
|
|
Vladmire, Smug bastard Vladmire raked in his last hand full of lhos and passed the lot off to Mikhale. "That should give us enough to trade for extra socks and rations. As long as you don't smoke them all." Mikhale tried to look affronted, but he couldn't deny that given the chance he'd burn them all down himself. Vladmire met the angry faces around the crate with a pleasant smile, like he was just stepping away from lunch with friends. "Well, I hope to see you all out there in the trenches. I'm always willing to let you try to win your lhos back." The two troopers returned to their rucks and tried to find a dry place for their winnings. "Better not let Sarge see our take. I dunno how he'd feel about gambling after all what went down back home." A few other line guardsman marched by having a heated argument about whether orks were five foot or ten foot tall. Vladmire and Mikhale exchanged glances. "Orks? What are orks? I thought we were here to fight the heretics." Vladmire only shrugged. "I don't reckon it will matter much, cuz. Not as soon as they let us into one of those beauties." Vladmire ogled enviously as a massive Lamen Russ battle tank rumbled past. "Just think of that. We could bring the justice from five klicks away and with plenty of room in the cab for recaff."
|
| # ? Feb 17, 2013 22:22 |
|
|
Sergeant Vorgen Vorgen walks in step with the others, adroitly dodges the incoming vehicles with the others, and then returns to formation with the others. As formation breaks down Vorgen maintains his pace, the routine a reassuring comfort. The jeers and catcalls bounce off of him like gnats running into a windshield, but when one insistent trooper confronts him directly he is forced to address him. He stares at the offending Guardsman for an uncomfortably long period of time. "Sergeant Vorgen is my name, trooper. The Lieutenant says it's important you call me that, so you call me that. Thank you for volunteering to spar with me tonight."
|
| # ? Feb 17, 2013 22:25 |
|
|
Father Roland The Priest listens on as the men talk. They still carry their heretical ways with them. He will not have the taint of Luggnum's Southern Continent follow them to this world. He jumps from the truck down to the ground, the man a head taller than everyone else save the sarge, and even then he is broader and more muscled than the sergeant. "I will have all of you know" the priest says aloud so all can hear, "that as your spiritual adviser I will tollerate NO 'pit fighting'! It was that heresy that damned our southern Continent, and I thought the crackdown complete. If you dare affront the Emperor of Mankind by fighting yourselves and not the enemy, pray that Commissar Vorgen catches you; for the death he deals out would be quicker than the penance I force upon you!" The Priest then climbs back into the truck. "You best watch these men Commissar and lieutenant; heresy grows from idleness." Penitent Jace looks at the rest of the group with fear in his eyes and just shakes his head "no".
|
| # ? Feb 18, 2013 00:54 |
|
|
Mathias "Lieutenant, you don't grow up on a Schola, you get trained. I have no idea where I'm from originally, but my first memory is standing to attention at the age of 4. From then on, it's training, schooling, more training, discipline, more training and eventually, graduation. And once you graduate, a lot of your time is spent training guardsmen. While I've seen combat, quite a lot of it, it pales in comparison to the amount of training I've had or given. A campaign, a tense, hard fought grinder that makes your heart waver and sees your comrades fall might take a year. Then you have years between that, and the next one. A common phrase is soldering is 90% waiting, 9% work and 1% fighting. It's pretty much accurate in my experience. The biggest challenge you'll face is keeping your men keen, ready and willing while waiting. But from what I've seen, your troops are willing, and as ready as they can be for a group of fresh soldiers heading into their first battle. So long as you stay calm and collected, and make sure your troops know that you are, I reckon they'll do fine." What Mathias didn't mention was that fine in the imperial guard book was a casualty rate lower than 50%, but they all picked up on that soon enough.
|
| # ? Feb 18, 2013 01:32 |
|
|
Sergeant Vorgen Vorgen stares at the priest, frustrated at Father Roland for cutting out any semblance of authority. The pompous rear end was so full of himself, quick to shout out the Emperor's judgement without thought or concern to how it would reflect on anything else. The itch underneath his half-mask grows in concert with Vorgen's irritation. If he didn't beat the poo poo out of something soon he was going to go insane. He marches forward, maintaining a standard pace, and redirects his attention to the officers and specialists riding in the truck. "Sir!" he shouts out over the background noise of thousands of feet stomping against the ground, "Father's right! Can't fight amongst ourselves! How 'bout some unarmed combat training to ensure they don't feel the need!"
|
| # ? Feb 18, 2013 06:00 |
|
|
The lieutenant looks like a molerat caught in the headlights of a speeding Tauros. "High Lords' balls, what can I say to that? I don't want him to crush my head the next time I got to sleep." He then takes a frightful glance towards the back of the truck. "But getting burned to death by Father Roland doesn't sound that appealing either." He quickly glances at the faces gathered around him. You can almost hear the gears turning in his head when he stops to stare at the Commissar. "Sergeant, you're going to have to discuss that matter with the Commissar. He is the final authority to what is and what isn't appropiate as far as your morale and conduct goes." His voice is filled with a surprising amount of confidence as he throws the Commissar under the tunnelbus. The vox-operator leans towards the commissar and mutters something under his breath. "Nice knowing ya, mister."
|
| # ? Feb 18, 2013 10:55 |
|
|
Father Roland The priest looks at both of the Vorgans, wondering if they were related. He respected the Sergeant's zeal for combat, zeal that should be directed at the xenos or heretic, not each other. Roland leans in to the Commissar, "Surely the God-Emperor would not oppose strictly-controlled and by the books close combat training; we well be fighting Orks after all. I shall observe, so ensure that these men keep their thoughts on the God of Man during said training."
|
| # ? Feb 18, 2013 13:28 |
|
|
Commissar Vorgen "If there is time to spare, the best way to spend it would of course be additional training, lest the men's minds turn to less appropriate activities." Vorgen thinks it best not to mention that he had been a regular at the rings back on Luggnum. He doesn't remember there being anything heretical about them, just (mostly) harmless fun, but he isn't about to start arguing with the priest.
|
| # ? Feb 18, 2013 23:51 |
|
|
Sergeant Vorgen "Right. Vigorous march, set up quarters, spar until morale improves. Great idea, Sir."
|
| # ? Feb 19, 2013 01:59 |
|
|
Vladmire, Punching bag News traveled fast around the enlisted men and it wasn't long before everybody heard the rumor about the extra training regiment being set up. "Did you hear The Hammer is going to be running everybody through some CQC drills? Oh man, what a trip. Learning from the best." Mikhale cracked his knuckles and elbowed Vladmire in the ribs. "You hear that, cuz? Some CQC. Just like the pits. I'm excited. I been feeling rusty since I retired." Vladmire just groaned. "At least somebody is excited. I for one am certainly not looking forward to fishing for my teeth after one of these half-ogryn looking bastards uses them for target practice. I swear I will never even see the inside of one of these tanks. They just put me through the training to string me along and have a good laugh when they plopped my rear end into a muddy trench. Without any teeth."
|
| # ? Feb 19, 2013 17:21 |
|
|
|
| # ? May 24, 2013 17:26 |
|
|
Gwen As soon as she is sure the Priest isn't watching, Gwen lets out a whoop. "Alright! Fight-night is on!" She looks back at the trooper who asked her about Sarge. "You should come watch, pal. Who knows, you might even learn something! From Sarge - or me, if you play nice." She continues marching with a bit more pep in her step, her mood obviously lifted by the prospect of tonight's 'training'.
|
| # ? Feb 19, 2013 22:26 |
|
