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Harbinger class cruiser Lament of Phycaea, 50,000 kilometers from Cadian orbit: The transition back to realspace had been a welcome one. Even to those who had pledged themselves in service against the False Emperor the Warp was an unpredictable and unwelcoming place, and while the ship's sorcerers had managed to keep the worst of the incursions at bay travel through the Immaterium still meant restless, nightmare-plagued nights and the ever-present threat of mortal danger. But if the men and women of Thassalania gathered aboard the Lament of Phycaea were at all disturbed by this prospect they didn't show it. To them, soldiers born and bred on a world deep within the Eye of Chaos, brought up knowing nothing but endless, eternal war, the threat of death was a constant in their lives. Every one of them had fought and killed and bled since the time they could hold a lasgun, and through it all they had survived and even thrived where others had faltered and fallen. To those that had grown accustomed to staring death in the face, the perils of the Warp held little fascination. When Abaddon the Despoiler had come to Thassalania seeking soldiers for his Black Crusade he brought with him wealth and favor enough to enlist fully one third of the world's entire population of able-bodied soldiers to his cause. The planet had entered an unprecedented period of cease-fire simply to allow the chosen enough time to be mustered and transferred to the waiting fleet in orbit. Every Thassalanian who survived long enough to reach adulthood knew that one day they would find themselves pledged to someone's service for the rest of their lives...on a world that knew only war, the only export of any worth was soldiers. But this Black Crusade was something different, something new, and there was a palpable excitement in the air as the largest mobilization of Thassalanian forces in history made their way towards their first objective...the planet Cadia. It wasn't daemons or Warp-ghasts that threatened the Thassalanian 1st Crusade Expeditionary Force, it was inaction. Thassalanians were in their element amidst the devastation and carnage of war...being separated from that for the first time, if only so that they could be ferried to yet another active warzone, left many of them restless and irritable. Mock battles and training drills did only so much to take the edge off, and officers had their hands full ensuring that flaring tempers and aggression were appropriately channeled, or summarily disciplined. But now they were close. They had left the Warp days earlier, the currents proving favorable enough to bring them practically to Cadia's front step. The Lament of Phycaea along with dozens of other ships comprising the second wave of the Crusade made their way towards the besieged planet on void-engines, and when the shattered remnants of Cadia's orbital defenses first appeared in portholes and observation domes a cheer went up throughout the ship. The Black Crusade was underway. High over Cadia, six hours later: Those on Cadia looking to the skies for salvation from the terror that had fallen upon them would find no respite as hundreds of bulky mass conveyers began to descend from orbit, each corpulent transport carrying hundreds of thousands of troops, servitors, and vehicles in their cavernous holds, waiting to be unleashed upon the reeling world. What air defenses remained intact began targeting the slow-moving conveyers but were quickly set upon by swooping fightercraft along with periodic lance strikes from the ships in orbit high above the planet. Sleek black drop pods fell like rain as rapid assault teams hurtled towards hundreds of targets around the globe. And in the midst of it all, a guncutter bristling with weapons weaved its way through the criss-cross of tracer fire, lasbeams, and flak as it headed in a different direction altogether. Guncutter Reaver 025, cruising 5,000 feet above sea level: The soldiers strapped into the guncutter's troop compartment relaxed slightly as they cleared the air-defense screen and leveled off, several of them chuckling and trading jokes as they sped through the air, but behind the banter and bravado every one of them was intensely curious as to why they had been singled out, shepherded onto a guncutter, and were currently heading away from the main deployment. Two dozen heads turned towards the front of the cabin as the door leading towards the cockpit slid open and a scarred figure in black power armor stepped through. "All right, listen up." Immediately the jokes stopped, lhos were ground out beneath boots, and two dozen soldiers came to attention as best they could while seated as Major Javir Oskavar approached them, his armor emblazoned with the insignia of Thassalania's elite Myrmidons. "I'm sure you've all been wondering why you're here and where you're headed," he went on, giving the faintest of nods as he dispassionately completed his inspection and found things to his satisfaction. "As soon as we began our deployment we received a priority communique. From Warmaster Abaddon." It was a testament to the soldiers' discipline that the only reaction this news received was a silent darting of the eyes. "He has a high priority assignment away from the main lines that he wants reinforced immediately, and you were selected for the mission. We're to rendezvouz with a Crusade spearhead element designated Bonecrusher Squad, last known position here," he said, tapping the surface of his dataslate. A hololithic projection sprung to life in the middle of the cabin, a skull emblem highlighting the squad's location against a glowing simulacrum of Cadia itself. "Bonecrusher will have more details for us once we touch down, but given that these orders come from Abaddon himself you should be prepared for anything. You were chosen for this assignment because you're all skilled, ruthless, and capable, and now's your chance to prove it and bring glory to Thassalania. Don't disappoint the Warmaster...or me." Bonecrusher Squad's currently location, ETA 60 seconds: As Abaddon departed to leave Bonecrusher Squad to prepare for their latest investigation a guncutter suddenly roared overhead, banking and coming about as engines swiveled and thrusters fired, kicking up a cloud of dust and debris as it touched down nearby. As soon as it came to a stop the boarding ramp lowered, two dozen soldiers in full body armor equipped with vicious-looking lasguns began fanning out and securing the area, followed by a figure in sophisticated power armor, the air around him faintly crackling with Warp energy. Javir quickly scanned the area, taking in the sight of the ruined battlements and devastation that had been recently wrought, then turned his attention to the collection of Astartes, hereteks, and other assorted misfits that were gathered nearby. "Bonecrusher Squad? Major Javir Oskavar, 1st Thassalanian Crusade Expeditionary Force. Warmaster Abaddon tells me that where you go death follows. That's good to hear. I'm your liaison with the Expeditionary Force, and also your reinforcements. So who can tell me what it is that we're supposed to be doing?" Major Javir Oskavar   pre:Thassalonian Myrmidon (homebrew advanced archetype approved by Mandozer) Stat Rolls, the other one is under the same campaign name if you want to see it. Ballistic Skill: 42 +5 47 +5 = 52 Weapon Skill: 43 +5mp -3per 45 +5 = 50 Strength: 36 36 +5 = 41 Toughness: 39 +5 44 = 44 Agility: 45 45 +5 = 50 Intelligence: 33 -5mp -3per 25 +5 = 30 Perception: 36 36 = 36 Willpower: 38 38 +5 = 43 Fellowship: 34 -4des +5 +5per 40 +5 = 45 Infamy: 60 +2 = 62 Corruption: 30 = 30 Martial Prowess +5 WS -5 Int Destruction +2 Inf -4 Fel Perfection +5 to one, -3 to two MANMODE Unaligned, no gods no masters Skills: Acrobatics Athletics +10 Awareness +10 Command +10 Common Lore (Imperial Guard, Screaming Vortex, Tech, War) Dodge +10 Forbiden Lore (The Horus Heresy and Long War, Pirates) Intimidate Linguistics (Low Gothic, Thassalanian Battle Cant) Navigation (Surface) Operate (Aeronautica, Surface) Parry Scholastic Lore (Tactica Imperialis) Stealth Survival +10 Tech Use Trade (Armorer) Talents: Air of Authority Ambidextrous Ancient Warrior Berserk Charge Bulging Biceps Cold Hearted Horde Minion of Chaos Iron Discipline Iron Jaw Jaded Lightning Reflexes Light Sleeper Nerves of Steel Peer (Warlords) Pity the Weak Quick Draw Rapid Reaction Rapid Reload Raptor Resistance (Fear) Sound Constitution (1) Storm of Iron Swift Attack Weapon Training (Power, Las, Primary, SP) Marksman Takedown Technical Knock Traits: The Quick and The Dead Unnatural Toughness (1) Regeneration (1) +2 damage with unarmed attacks +2 damage with all melee attacks Special Abilities: Chem-Warrior: Upon being raised to the rank of Myrmidon a soldier's body is surgically enhanced through heretical procedures proscribed within the Imperium, implanting it with a series of organs and glands designed to enhance his combat prowess and survivability against even incredible odds and harsh battlefield conditions. These organs duplicate the effects of a Respirator and make the Myrmidon immune to most toxins (including extra damage dealt from weapons with the Toxic quality). Their new glands also act as Injectors containing Frenzon, Slaught, Stimm, and Spur. The Myrmidon may activate their implant glands to produce any of these drugs as a Free Action requiring a Routine (+20) Willpower Test for each dosage. A Failure means that gland has malfunctioned, and will need 1d5 days to recover. Other newly added organs are designed to filter away any chemical by-products of the dosages, so the user does not need to take any tests afterwards for ill effects and halves the recovery time of any automatic after-effects. The augmented physiology will also ward off any effects of excessive drug use, including addiction. Proven Leader: The Myrmidon is used to having his orders carried out with the military precision and ruthless discipline that a life of unending war breeds. All of a Myrmidon's minions that hail from Thassalania gain +10 Loyalty. In addition the Myrmidon is adept at leading by example, bolstering the capabilities of those around him either through extensive tactical training or sheer determination. Once per encounter the Myrmidon can spend an Infamy Point as a Half Action and choose one of the following benefits to apply to a number of minions or other heretics equal to his Fellowship bonus, as well as himself, for the remainder of the encounter so long as he remains in contact with them: -Follow My Lead: The Myrmidon chooses one skill he knows, and those affected can use that skill as though they had it trained at the same level. -Sweeping Advance: Those affected benefit from the Hip Shooting talent and ignore any movement penalties for difficult terrain. -Brutal Assault: Those affected gain Tearing on all melee attacks made as part of a Charge or All-Out Attack. -Cull the Weak: Those affected deal additional damage to Hordes with any successful attack equal to half the Myrmidon's Infamy bonus, and if an attack of theirs would cause enough Magnitude damage to force a Horde to test against Willpower or break, the Horde suffers a -10 penalty to that Willpower test. Mutations/Gifts: Mark of Chaos Undivided Chaos Organ (Nurgle) Wreathed in Chaos (Tzeentch) XP Breakdown: Advanced Archetype 4600 Fellowship +5 Willpower +5 Agility +5 Weapon Skill +5 Ballistic Skill +5 Strength +5 Intelligence +5 Characteristic Advances 1750 Operate (Aeronautica) Acrobatics Skills 400 Ambidextrous Air of Authority Pity the Weak Raptor Sound Constitution (1) Iron Discipline Rapid Reaction Swift Attack Storm of Iron Horde Minion of Chaos Talents 4000 10750/10900xp Equipment: Light Power Armour (Auto-Senses, Vox Link, Sustainable Power Source, Power Supply Tampering: Hotshot Lasgun) Variable-Configuration Assault Lasgun (BQ Hotshot Lasgun w/Spread Limiter, Kai Tave fucked around with this message at 02:44 on Dec 19, 2014 |
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Dec 18, 2014 09:26
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Major Javir Oskavar An imperceptible frown passed across Javir's face as the members of Bonecrusher Squad filled him in on the details of the mission he and his men had been assigned to, but he knew better than to complain like some of them were. If the Warmaster had tasked them with this then it was for a reason. Regardless he, along with the entire Expeditionary Force, had been pledged to Abaddon's service which meant that his duty was to follow orders, not question them...even if he would rather be joining the main Thassalanian force in exterminating every last Imperial soldier residing upon this world. "Perimeter containment, sweep-and-clear, secure the area...understood," he said, inclining his head towards the woman who seemed more machine than human and the polite, if hideous, Nurglite. "I'm going to assume we don't have an accurate threat assessment or any sort of intelligence to go on beyond a location. Transmit the coordinates to our guncutter's machine-spirit. In the meantime maybe you can direct me to the nearest supply dump...my unit and I were diverted before we had a chance to properly outfit ourselves for this sort of mission." Dear Santa, I would like: -Thermal armor upgrade for my light power armor (Infamy 62, +10 single, -20 Very Rare = TN 52) -Good-craftsmanship Auspex (Infamy 62, +10 single, +0 Scarce, -10 Good-craftsmanship = TN 62) -I can't really think of anything else to aim for so gently caress it, let's go with a Conversion Field (Infamy 62, +10 single, -30 Extremely Rare = TN 42)
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Dec 25, 2014 07:18
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