Andreyich

RIVER GOBLIN'S AVATARS AND CHARACTER ART SHOP

a dabbing duck please

Warhammer 40k: Enemy Without, Enemy Within - an 'Ecclesiarchal' RP [Mature][High Casual/Low Advanced]

As the Hospitaller Sister entered Horacio's eyes turned red in panic and he raised his pistol, before he lowered it, exhaling with relief. He relaxed, lowering his weapon and closing his eyes as he was tended to. "Just sow it shut." A shudder born of placebo came from him as she gave him the injection in the arm, wondering how the woman had guessed that he had suffered a nasty smack from the kroot to his shoulder.

Yet just as he was tended to, he was called to war once more from outside. "Coming Sister!" He shouted, muttering thanks to the Hospitaller as revitalized he picked up his weapons and ran out. Quite calmly he racked in shells back to his shotgun and a fresh magazine into his bolt-pistol.

They walked along the corridors of the ship to the genetorium. The Confessor hoped they could get at the enemy close and undetected where they could unleash automatic bursts to quickly even the playing field. Yet, it would not be. One of the foe ran off, so it seemed that a straight up fight would once again be the norm.

Horacio raised his shotgun in one hand, and with the other pointed. "See the enemy! See their cowardice and the vile forms it takes!" With that, he lowered his shotgun, and let the sight fall centre-mass on the Tech-Priest. He had the ordinary pellets loaded in at the moment for he had not the fore-sight to load in slugs, but with the massive calibre of the Blackhammer-Pattern derivative he was using it would still be nasty even to cybernetics. He fired once, twice, thrice, and so on taking steps towards the Tech-Priest with each pull on the slide. His Rosarius shield flared with power as enemies assailed him with their firearms but he cared not as he drew his bolt pistol again, and flicking the full-auto mode on sent off his magazine at the Tech-Priest (regardless if it was by now beaten, for he knew such amalgams of flesh and machine could be quite deceptive).

Warhammer 40k: No Pity, No Remorse, No Fear! - A Black Templars RP

The Apothecary was quite unsettled by what he saw. Could they really have traveled that much in time? The warp was a fickle thing and one knew of stories of men meeting themselves because the warp brought themselves years back in time. But was that not the pathetic rumouring of mortals? For it to happen to such an honourable, such a grand Astartes vessel was unthinkable. He hesitated before replying. "My Lord, in all truth this is beyond my ken as an Apothecary. However, I pledge that what I can do to remedy this grave turn of events, I will do to the fullest of my ability." Dumbfounded, Klaus kept looking at the display. Unable to make any sort of sense of it, he gave a tired sigh before resigning himself to the current truth of the matter. With that, the Marine awaited what input the others might have and the next assignment the Chaplain would provide.

It was not too long after the discussion started when the ship rumbled, the solid impacts of macrocannons going upon them. The Apothecary was undisturbed, and said a quick prayer for the humans aboard the ship doing the ordinary naval work. With his newfound Brothers he rushed to the boarding craft, Chainaxe already whirring in anticipation.

Not now.... he muttered, for nor strangling the serpent of anger inside him. Klaus had a more important task for now, and it was quite likely he woudln't even taste blood that day. Just as the Chaplain began to pray, the Apothecary followed, intoning the same words. However, as they began to finish his words trailed off slightly differently.

"Death, war and blood;
in vengeance serve the Emperor,
in the name of Sigismund!"

After his time in the Deathwatch and serving with both an Imperial and Crimson Fist - theoretically gene-Brothers to the Black Templars - and reading texts of the past, his opinion of the Templars Gene-Sire had... changed.

Retaking the Front (40k Astra Militarum Roleplay, Currently Full)

All was good for the happy ratling, as they flew on and on. He was definitely not happy with what one could easily call a crash-landing. Still, work was work. He fell over with a grunt in annoyance before he drew his pistol and turned off the safety in one handy motion. With his other hand he grabbed the mask he was issued and slapped it into place, wincing as the elastic straps hit him.

At last, he stepped out of the lander. The enemy wasn't quite in sight or range for his sniper and regardless he didn't have any targets yet. Adelbert calmly waited for whatever the hell would be their target, with his pistol held forth in examination of the terrain. He was not happy at all when he heard an unsettling noise. At this point he realized it was true rumours spread faster than lasbolts, for all ready he was hearing six different theories on just what precisely they were going to be fighting here. No, that wouldn't do at all.

In a second he ducked, and moved inwards to the formation of soldiers. Sure, one could call him a coward. But when you were dead cowardice is the least of your worries. When the scream of 'mutants' came about, he redoubled his efforts. He had seen what real scum humanity could become, and he knew his mutations were rather benign in comparison. One time Adelbert had even been cursed to see a scalie, an odd thing from hive sewers that look like an Ogryn decided to get romantic with a turtle. Adelbert cursed quietly for reminding himself of exactly what evolution could do to mankind, as he levelled his pistol and got ready for the attack.

Retaking the Front (40k Astra Militarum Roleplay, Currently Full)

@Ollumhammersong
will post tomorrow, promise

Retaking the Front (40k Astra Militarum Roleplay, Currently Full)

soon, forgot about this tbh

Warhammer 40k: No Pity, No Remorse, No Fear! - A Black Templars RP

Short but hopefully y'all see it as sweet

Warhammer 40k: No Pity, No Remorse, No Fear! - A Black Templars RP

There is no God, but the Emperor, and we are His Messenger

~ Testament of Chaplain ********* *** ******* of the **** *******

The words were in a tiny scrap of paper on the walls of Brother Karolai's tiny dormitory. The Apothecary was kneeling in Prayer, his chainaxe upon his lap. He had yet to properly serve with his Black Templar brothers after his time in the Deathwatch. It took him so long to adjust and at last be comfortable with service in the Deathwatch, and Klaus wondered if now he would face readjustment to his home Chapter to be just as difficult. The Apothecary knew he would do his duty regardless but he knew that it was so much simpler to do when he was as one with his comrades. He would go to duty in the squad Sibrand he was assigned to and he would do all demanded of him. The Marine merely wanted guidance as to how.

Blessed are the grand in spirit: for theirs is the Imperium eternal.
Blessed are those who mourn: for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek: for they will inherit the galaxy.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness; they will be gorged and sated.
Blessed are those who show no mercy, for they shall receive it from Him.
Blessed are the pure in heart: for they will see the Emperor.
Blessed are the warriors, for they will be called children of the God-Emperor.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness: they are by the Emperor's side.
Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you, when they and falsely utter evil against you on my account.
Rejoice and be glad, for your reward by the Emperor's side is great, for so they persecuted the Prophets and Warriors-

He was cut off as an Initiate entered the candle and incense Chapel where he was praying. The youngling hurried over to him and notified the Apothecary that his presence was needed. With a grunt he made the sign of the Aquila, lit a candle for a Brother lost and after letting the sweet smell drift to him for a few moments he opened his eyes. He would now be meeting most of the Brothers he would serve with for the first time. He needed to make a good impression. Carefully locking his helmet in place, the Chaplain sprinted across the ship with the super-human speed all Marines were known for towards the room where he was called to. When he arrived - now slowed to a calm and gracious walk - he entered the bridge with a bow of respect to the Chaplain and a nod to the others present. Klaus said nothing and instead simply took a position close to the door where he could lay eyes upon whoever else entered, and be ready to swiftly leave whenever the talking was done. For now he gazed at the Chaplain, meeting his blue gaze with the red-amber glow of his helmet's eyeslits.

Warhammer 40k: No Pity, No Remorse, No Fear! - A Black Templars RP

@Jbcool to be one hundred percent sure i dont blunder anything we are this trusted few assembled?

With Machine Gun and Sword: The Age of Warlords

---

Ḵ̡͔͉͌̃ͪ́̈ͪ̎ñ̟̀̔̓͑͒́ě̮̰̗̭̺͖̜̄̎̃̀͡e͝ļ̫͚̲͙̤̼͖ ͖͆̂B͍̍ͮ͐̒ͪ̄e̜ͪ̓̾ͮ̽f̯ͣͣ̈́ͫ̃ͣ͟o̗̫̭̜̜̳͟r͎̤͎͍̈́͐͋̐̃ͭͩe̢̝͉̓̄̔͛̎̒̅ ̨̪͖̫͍̊T̷̖̳̞̝̻̤̒ͬ̈́h̳̳̻̎̊̑̂̀e̵ͬͧ ̤̣̘͖̼͍̐́̓K̩̺̹̤̮͒͊ͥ͗hä͙̞́͝ͅgͨͭ̆͜ä̜̩̤̜́͒ͤn̻ͩͩ̓̕

---

'Sergei Dmitrievich, I know we have to also destroy the butchery? I was hoping for a nice dinner under the stars!'

'Mikhail Nikitich, in the story we are to make the communists burn all the buildings down as a thing of the bourgeiousie.'

'Can we at least take calves?'

'No. Konstantin Feodorovich said the refugees from the town must starve, their foodstuffs burned along with their homes.'

'Oh very well. It is a difficult duty we face Sergei.'

'I understand. But such is necessary. Battlegroup Vaghner will be doing similar acts on the communist front.'

'I am aware. Let's get this over, we have to leave before the artillery crossfire begins, the sides will charge at each other. It will be quite humourous when they fall upon the bear-traps we left behind!'

'Very well, let us go. '

With that the two soldiers marched off. They were dressed in communist garb, the red star and every other marker about their person. They wore balaclavas or bandanas with goggles, and dyed what little of their skin was exposed to view to be coloured more akin to typical Mingans and Quin. Their task was a complex one, but they were Khiberian riflemen and prepared for any sort of task. Their collective job here was to set up a false flag attack upon the republicans and communists for either to think that they were betrayed. They had gotten south on the Brass Engines and now they were doing their work. At similar times various villages, military outposts, and ordinary people passing on roads would be assaulted, dozens of silent shots preceding louder volleys, and ideological screams be they communist towards the republicans, or capitalist towards the reds. To finalize the action, a series of rockets - crude things that were little more than fireworks that would probably inflict little to no casualties but effective for their purpose - would be deployed on the closest approximation the Khaganate knew for both parties control of ideology. The missiles would fly to either side, the direction obvious. Combined with reports of various raids and attacks from the soon to be enemies, they had little uncertainty that hostilities would begin. In the new ideological struggle they were fully aware that thousands, maybe millions would die....

....But why should they care?

So they burned the last village in their allotted time frame, and ran north. Just as they stealthily returned back to their side's lines they would hear the first rockets flying side to side, igniting the sparks of a new war....

---

In the North, the Khagan himself was going to lead, unlike the South-front where he delegated the task to Lord-Militant and Lord-Intellectual. Long had his army been marching, but neither horse nor man tired fed a constant supply of what Lord-Scientific called "Perkozine." Yet another thing conjured up in the mad-labs of Kuorno, it was hastily tested on captured enemy foreigners, who after showing satisfactory results were slowly run across a sawmill's spinning blade over the span of hours.

With him, the Bronzen horde marched to the enemy.