User has no status, yet


NRP, Star Wars, Dragon Age and Warhammer (Fantasy and 40k) enthusiast. Feel free to PM me about any related RPs

Most Recent Posts

This looks like a pretty interesting concept. Is it still open?
Interested. Will get a sheet in a couple hours

Edit: is there a sheet where we can find more of the established lote? Cultures, geography and the like?
I guess its time to bayonet some robots then.


Yeah sure, life has quieted down somewhat on my end
Post coming tomorrow or the day after. RL really fucked me over these last few days. Apologies for the delay

Baltar Iskaron

For the first time ever since he had enlisted, Baltar Iskaron had overslept. Much needed sleep, that had nonetheless, earned him a harsh reprimand from the higher ups a few days ago. After that, Emperor and Sun be praised, he had overcome his sleeping problems. The relentless drilling still had worn him out, but the lack of sleepless nights did wonders for his rest and general good humor.

Which still wasn't enough to compensate for the fact he was about to be thrown into his first battle. This wasn't gonna be Baltar's first fight. He had had his fair share of scuffles back home as a Caravan Guard, and before that merely helping defend their camp from the tribes that lived deeper in the desert. But he was now sadly certain that no amount of shooting the rare screaming Ork or skirmishes over watering spots would hold a single, measly candle to the kind of...of...whatever was going to happen once they landed.

"Don't you go pissing your pants, boy. Don't need you bringing anymore shame upon the clan name."

Baltar steeled himself, mentally reciting prayers and litanies to the Emperor and Sun, as he gave his gear one final check. It still felt somewhat alien to him, all this equipment, the flak armor, the lasgun itself. Back home he and most other Caravan Guards had to make do with an assortment of different weapons. Baltar himself had used an old and worn stub gun. Getting used to the lasgun instead had been something that he was sure would come soon enough. Even the combat knife was far shorter than the saber he had so painstakingly trained and used all these years.

"A warrior must know his weapons, boy. Respect and revere them or you might as well shoot yourself now and save us all the trouble."

Now there was nothing more to do besides following the rest of the squad to the entrance of the monstrosity of a landing ship that would carry them to...wherever they were going to fight.

"Listen up, we are going to make our way into this lander in an orderly fashion - our autocannon team to the rear, followed by medics and vox-troopers - the remaining squads of the platoon following in after us."

Baltar caught himself nodding along to the Sergeant words. Noticing with some misplaced pride that he seemed to be another desert dweller like him. He ignored the other assembled soldiers, intent on listening to everything the officer would choose to impart upon them. Maybe now he would finally find out where and against who the regiment would be fighting. Finally confirm which one of the hundred wild rumors where correct.

"Alright! Check your gear, stow your feelings, and follow me."

At that Baltar gave his gear one last keen eyed inspection, noticing that yes, everything was in order. Just as it had been the last three times he had checked less than half a hour ago. Then, Baltar realized the Sergeant had already entered the lander. That was supposed to be all? Oh Emperor and Sun, they were going to be thrown into the battlefield utterly blind, weren't they?

"So what, boy? You're now a soldier of the Emperor. And you will fight his enemies wherever they appear. Remember your oaths and stop mewling like a little girl."

Baltar shook himself. Trying to will the fear and nervousness away as he made his way through the dark belly of the metal beast, looking for a seat.
I will get a post with a proper color code later tonight
Baltar Iskaron

Sleep continued to elude him, much to his chagrin. Tomorrow was going to be another day filled with endless drills and Baltar Iskaron would rather face it after a night's rest, at least one. Emperor above, he hadn't managed a decent night's sleep in weeks. Every day was filled with mind numbing, exhaustive drills while his nights were spent half awake, tossing and turning in his bunk, surrounded by more people than he had ever seen during his life in the sands, inside a ship that was largest than the most populous market city he had ever visited before going to the Hive. Which by itself was an entirely different beast. Not that he had had much time to gawk at that incomprehensible titan of steel.

Guarding caravans through well trodden desert routes, as it turned out, did not prepare him for the life of a Guardsmen. But that was only one of the many prejudices and misconceptions that Baltar had been forced to abandon ever since that fateful day in which his father told him to go out into the world and make a name for himself.

Perhaps, in time, this torrent of disjointed thoughts and ideas would settle and Baltar's mind would allow him to settle down for a night of proper sleep. He needed it, needed it more than ever. Soon the regiment would be disembarking on the front, or so he had been told. And then, Emperor above, the desert was a deadly mistress to the unaware, the tired, the distracted. Baltar could only imagine what an actual warzone would be. And his mind was very fertile. He certainly wasn't counting on the privilege of having a sure bed and uninterrupted sleeping time when they were thrown into real combat.

At least then, Baltar would see the sun again. Not the Sun he had grown up with and learned both to revere and respect as a manifestation of the Emperor's unmatched power, but a sun nonetheless. Certainly just as mighty and divine as the one back home...

Which he would never see again. Holy Emperor, he was never going back to Vosmarth, was he? Never see his family again either. If only he had taken up Haddad's offer. It was the safe route, work under the Trade Master. Learn from the best, his kin in all but blood. But no, Baltar had decided to go to the Hive first. Oh, he surely would've visited if he had taken up the offer. Eventually, if sparingly.

But Baltar wanted to do more! To serve the Emperor. To see places beyond the Desert, new worlds beyond Vosmarth. Problem is, Baltar hadn't really considered the full consequences of his actions.

"Like all stupid youths." His father's voice rang clear inside his head. "But you gave your word, you made an oath to the Emperor himself. And by Him on Terra, you will see it through or die trying!"
I apologize for the delay in posting, will have my intro ready by tomorrow
© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet