[@Drunken Conquistador][@Laduguer][@Amaranth][@DeadDrop][@Blueskin]


Ioanus Secundus, how had they landed on this shithole planet?

Months had passed since Eighth squads first live-fire exercise, the wall of muscle that was Sergeant Mason remaining with them throughout, up to, and including participating in their first deployment to this so-called 'Civilised World'; Ioanus Secundus was a former colony world of the Imperium that had been allowed to grow organically from the ground up, the faith of its citizens strong as iron...until [b]his[/b] arrival.

He had come as an off-world traveller, a trader in ideologies and philosophies that seemed strange and exotic to say the least, the planets rulers - and the Planetary Governor to boot - being each of them wise enough to know when something was amiss. Slowly but surely the rot of something foul took root on the planet, riots and revolts against the rightful rule of the Imperium springing up in any number of cities across the planets face, strange symbols being daubed on the very walls of Arbites precincts, and folk going missing in the night only to be found later without certain organs or limbs.

It was when a forceful investigation was made by the Arbites into rumours of cult gatherings that the planet erupted in turmoil, the capital city of Pitchpoint becoming ground zero for a revolution in the name of the Ruinous Powers, and only then did the Planetary Governor send word via astropath out into the wider Imperium with a request for help.

Ioanus Secundus was not a particularly high priority planet in general, but the taint of Chaos could not be allowed to spread, and so an Imperial Expeditionary Force was assembled - it included two dozen or so regiments of the Imperial Guard, a small contingent of white-clad Astartes from the Absolvers Chapter, and enough armour to level entire districts.

Included within their number were, of course, the Eighth Squad of the First Redemption Penal Legion under Arbitrator Kenelm and Sergeant Mason.

What had begun as an open attack across the planets main, and most heavily inhabited, continent had soon become bogged down and turned into trench warfare. It is here, some miles south-west of Pitchpoint, that the First Redemption in their full strength were about to be awoken in a most ungracious manner.



[center][b]************[/b][/center]



"Alright, everybody up!" Came the booming voice of Mason, his red bandanna clearly visible through the plastic sheeting that covered each dugout - a shining beacon of military style in a grey and dreary war - the man himself wearing little more than a vest and his usual combat trousers and boots, "there's more digging to be done today, so don't slack on me, ye hear?!"

A week they had been where they were, the Eighth Squad of a regiment consigned to death or redemption in the God-Emperor's glorious name, digging their own section of the overall trench network like the slaves that they honestly were. They may not have been servitors, but they weren't far off. Meanwhile Kenelm had been in meetings with the other Arbitrators of the Penal Legion, as well as the High Command, and things were not looking good.

If reports were anything to go by, they'd be making contact soon enough...




[hider=PLEASE READ]
Right, so...

We're in a trench facing some other trenches across No Man's Land; feel free to describe as more or as little as you like about the whys and wherefores of getting there, how your character is doing/feels, and so forth. Have them moan a bit, get some breakfast in their dugout, whatever you like really - death will come soon enough.

[@Blueskin], I recommend you take this opportunity to get Waldo introduced to and bunked up with Eighth Squad, before the real action begins.

I'd just like to apologise that it had taken this long to write something, and I have no excuse, but if you're all with me and willing to carry on then so am I![/hider]