[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjEwNi5mNWQxMDAuVDI0Z1ZHaGxJRkI1Y21WeklFOW1JRWhsY21WMGFXTnouMAAAAAAA/caslon-antique.bold.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://external-content.duckduckgo.com/iu/?u=https%3A%2F%2Fimages-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com%2Ff%2F041252f3-b14e-4afe-9bf6-9e6db2cc38d6%2Fd91enql-0f775463-ef24-4efc-9885-8dc574172e59.png%2Fv1%2Ffill%2Fw_900%2Ch_335%2Cstrp%2F40k_imperial_aquila__transparent__by_fuguestock_d91enql-fullview.png%3Ftoken%3DeyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MzM1IiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvMDQxMjUyZjMtYjE0ZS00YWZlLTliZjYtOWU2ZGIyY2MzOGQ2XC9kOTFlbnFsLTBmNzc1NDYzLWVmMjQtNGVmYy05ODg1LThkYzU3NDE3MmU1OS5wbmciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9OTAwIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmltYWdlLm9wZXJhdGlvbnMiXX0.Aqi2Gl-o6QM-LCYcl1VGz10xFD8ItV62N1kN6nCub5c&f=1&nofb=1[/img][/center] “Inquisitor Hera, what a pleasure to see you again, may I perhaps interest you in so-“ Before the simpering elderly governor could finish his sentence the sizzling snap of a hot-shot laspistol had finished it for him. The stench of burnt bacon emanated from the gaping hole in his cheek, the indistinct scent of seared brain matter and cremated bone following. A cauterised hole was left in the man’s temple, and the Inquisitor would step over the body, ignoring the screams of the man’s harem of equally simpering women. Her audio-dampeners would kick in as an astartes-sized boltgun opened up, the red-armoured marine turning and saluting to her once the job was done. “Thank you, Captain. Please ensure that nobody disturbs me as I send this missive out. Techpriest, if you will.” The leather gloves of the Inquisitor would point towards the obscenely chrome panel in front of her, before reaching up to her hat and adjusting it slightly. She preferred it ‘rakishly askew,’ not ‘almost toppling off.’ She would watch as a mechandrite extended out towards one of the interface ports, and within a minute she was being offered a microphone. She would lick her lips, clear her throat and then begin. “Attention all Imperial citizens. Hive IV of Yunnalin V has now officially been declared Damnatio, on the orders of the Ordo Hereticus of the Inquisition. Any found to be willingly consorting with members of Hive IV will be subject to the severest of punishments. As for those wretched souls within the hive, may the Emperor have mercy upon your souls, for I shall have none.” Thus, it was set. She had condemned 7.3 billion lives to death; but alas, she could not do so with the practised precision of an orbital barrage. The people in the hive might still be wretched and corrupt, but the Inquisition’s interest in the place had not yet ended, and so it was that when her flagship’s batteries opened up, it was only to destroy those rich and foolish enough to try to escape the Ordo’s wrath by simply flying away. Sparks of red; barely recognisable as life-ending explosions from the office she was currently in, would pinprick the planet below her, and then she would turn back to the console. “Attention attention, all Imperial forces that can hear this message. On order of the God-Emperor’s own Holy Inquisition I am requisitioning any forces that can be spared for a series of vital operations to expunge perfidy and treachery within the wretched Hive IV of Yunnalin V. Failure to respond to this message will be considered as a failure to submit to the Inquisition’s own orders, and punished as such. I thank you for your assistance, and the God-Emperor Protects.” [hr] [center][h3][sub]Thought of the day: Nobody is innocent, there are merely varying levels of guilt.[/sub][/h3][/center] [hr] Welcome to the Emperor's Duty, otherwise known as [url=https://discord.gg/qTfm3d]Pyrework.[/url] (Link to Discord.) This will be a roleplay set in the Grim Darkness of the 41st Millenia, as a mixed assortment of Imperial forces carry out a number of vital activities in a Hive City for one Inquisitor Hera. Guide your soldiers well, eternally watch for the heresy that surrounds you and show no mercy, and you may live to fight another day. [center][b]Rules:[/b][/center] [list] [*]Follow Guild Rules. [*]Respect Your Fellows. [*]My Word Is Final. [/list] [center][b]Character Sheet:[/b][/center] This will be a little unusual, what with the fact that you're not only making a character sheet for you PoV character, but also the squadron that they lead. In terms of how many soldiers you'll be able to take, ultimately I'll need to discuss with you, but the general gist of it will be that any faction that primarily uses flak armour (or worse) such as the Frateris Militia, Imperial Guard or PDF have an upper limit of 20 or so troops. Factions that use carapace armour, such as Tempestus Scions, Skitarii, Adeptus Arbites and their ilk have an upper bounds of roughly 15 troops, and elite factions such as Sisters of Battle and Assassins have an upper bounds ranging between 10 for factions such as the Sisters, or even less for even more elite forces. Space Marines and Custodes are not permitted. [b]Faction Name: Force Name: Leader Name: Leader Bio: Direct Superior: Troop Count: Extraordinary Troops: Extraordinary Equipment: Why Were They Selected: Relationships:[/b] - With Inquisitor Hera - With the Adeptus Arbites - With the Adepta Sororitas - With the Adeptus Tempestus - With the Assassins - With the Astra Militarum - With the Skitarii [hr] [h3][sub]Thought of the day: The Mutant bears his heresy on the outside, the Traitor hides it in his Soul.[/sub][/h3] [hr]