Eisenhorn

Fantasy's Shattering

I was kinda leaning towards a mix between Dresden files illusions and the illusion branch in elder score if that makes any sense.

@The Fox Without

I, however, am familiar with Dresden File styled magic, illusions included, and as long as you don't get godmod happy (Mainly my concern is with phantasms, not the holograms) with it, I personally see no problems with it. And I'm not sure if you tried to put Elder Scrolls and had a typo or not, since I don't recognize Elder Score, but I dont see a problem with mixing some elder scrolls and dresden files magic styles. @TheWindel: In essence, to provide an explanation, I shall quote the wiki to make things simple (For Dresden Files Magic) "Holomancy is an area of magic that deals with illusions... ...There are two ways ot create illusions: Create the image in someone else's head—a phantasm. This is close to breaking the Laws of Magic. Create an actual visible object or creature—a hologram. Harder to produce and takes an enormous amount of energy..."

Fire Emblem: Light's End

Jerod Jerod had heard, and seen, the horse and armor wearing rider long before said rider, Marius, had stated anything as he reached speaking distance, a warhorse and armored man made a far different sound then the horses of burden and the sound of carts moving across a bumpy road. Drinking didn't harm his skills nearly as much as other folk, he could boast a natural tolerance above most folks, it came with the territory of, stereotypes aside, utilizing taverns and their generally crossroad esq nature to be able to track and find information. But that was neither here nor there, the man had asked and questioned his motives for hanging off the back of the cart, and an easy smirk found its way on Jerod's face. "Ach, g' mornin' t' ye too, 'orseman. Ain' no foreign influence 'ere, jus' keepin' an eye out 'round us. Ye cannae' trust t'em damned Feroxians 'arther t'en ye can throw em, savvy? An' t'ere th' closest problem ah can see 'aving reason to come at us." Jerod's smirk faded at the reminder of their destination and whom they would be entering discussions with, and spoke quieter, and in a far more serious tone to Marius, since that man would have better luck talking to the lad himself in an advisory role, no doubt. "Th' Feroxians method o' leadershi' is ass backwards, an' a' political a' it is strength o' arms. I 'oping th' lad Champion 'imself knows wha' 'e's gettin' us into 'ere. It migh' serve ye well t' check on th' lad, see tha' 'e knows wha' he's dealin' with 'ere. I ca' explain some if 'e wants, but ye migh' be able t' talk to 'im sooner, being on an 'orse and such, aye?" The last bit got a chuckle out of Jerod, and he resumed his scanning of their surroundings, determined to not put anymore thoughts on Ragna Ferox, or those damned Feroxian politics, until he absolutely had to.

Fantasy's Shattering

Co-GM here, checking in. Feel free to ask either myself or Windel any questions you might have, we'll answer it to the best of our abilities.

Fire Emblem: Light's End

Jerod Jerod hadn't remembered rightly leaving the mess hall, passing out, and stumbling into a pseudo conscious state long enough to fall into a caravan cart and pass out again. He groaned, feeling a hard lump beneath where he was sleeping. Sitting up, and hearing several joints pop, he glanced back to see a full bottle of some booze he had kept from the barracks mess hall. Well, wasn't that just perfect? Stashing the bottle in his bag, he groaned and stood up, or tried to before coming to his sense fully. Not the best place to do that, a rocking, moving cart. It had been quite a few hours, judging from the brightest light coming from the available paths for the light to travel in the cart. Promptly ignoring his previous thought, he opened the back of the cart fully and stood up out the back, hanging on and taking in his surroundings. An impromptu sentry duty, as it were, noting the small bridge and following pass would make a good ambush, if he were a smart bandit. Well, smart enough to be stupid enough to attack this convoy, at any rate. Beyond that, unless someone got his attention, he was silent, hanging off the back and looking around, his gut telling him violence was about to occur, and there wouldn't be much waiting until it happened.

Warhammer 40k: Out of the Warp (A chaos Centric 40k RP)

I posted!

Warhammer 40k: Out of the Warp (A chaos Centric 40k RP)

Name: Alexander Atreides Age: 322 Gender: Male Race: Bionically Enhanced Human Height: 5' 11" Weight: 177lbs Appearance: Equipment: Nemesis Daemon Blade: The Daemon bound within the weapon grants the name it carries, known to mortals as Nemesis, and doubles as a cruel parody of the weapons wielded by the Grey Knights. While its origins are lost, as to when and where it was forged and bound (And Nemesis itself does not impart such knowledge), it is clearly an old weapon, older than its current wielder, and an archaeic design. It is a daemon weapon, however, and is bound to the soul of it wielder, channeling the wielders malice and hate into each blow, the more felt for an enemy, the more powerful beyond a daemon weapons normal force each swing shall carry. Corrupted Bolt Pistol: Overexposure to the warp has left this bolt pistol, originally a Guard pattern issued to officers, tainted and corrupt. Each round is coated in empryean flames, causing each round to have the unnecessary effect of causing flames and stubborn fires in addition to each bolt round detonating upon impact. Bound Carapace Armor: Enscrolled with sigils of Chaos Undivided, one would think the aid of the Dark Gods aids this armor, and its wearer, in doing superhuman tasks. They would be mostly wrong, while some blessings have been bestowed upon the armor, it is a forging crafted by the finest Warsmiths one could find, capable of matching Astartes Power Armor blow for blow, while remaining in the appearance of humble carapace. Custom Breaching Charges: Take several dozen krak grenades, meltas bombs, and other, far tamer methods of demolition, and fuse them into one insane, volitile combination of explosives stuffed into one bag. This combination are called CBC's, or Custom Breaching Charges, by the siegemaster and those he leads. Powers: Corrupted Bionics: Iron within, Iron Without! Having undergone over 300 years of warfare, Atreides has been wounded and nearly slain countless times, only to be rebuilt stronger, more powerful, more durable than the last. Being tainted by the warp, the augmatics and flesh have no bounderies between one another, metal fusing with flesh, healing like flesh, but not breaking like weak flesh. Tainted Auspex: Imbedded into his head, and sacrificing an eye, Atreides can swap into many visual modes, from tracking weapons fire and rangefinding, to various spectrums of vision invisible to the unaided eye. Rank Among Chaos: Siegemaster Bio: Men and women captured by the Iron Warriors suffer one of two fates. Slave soldiers, or just slaves. Alexander Atreides does not remember what Imperial holding he was born on, if any, but all he does remember is his induction into the slave soldiers of an Iron Warrior Grand Company. The traitor marines barely noticed the mortal warriors used as cannon fodder and suicide missions, and that was how it always was. But, one raid on a fortified keep changed that. The planet burned, its name lost to the annals of history, and one last bastion of Imperial Might remained. Gathering the remaining slave soldiers, all veterans or blessed by the Dark Gods to survive, they were issued their last task of the invasion. Open the gates, and let the Iron Warriors claim their prize. Atreides had authority over the others, naturally taking over leadership of such scattered men and women, and led them on their invasion. No gods whispered dark promises of power or success to these slaves, nothing was offered to them as Alexander Atreides stormed the keep's grandest hold, while the other slaves died opening the gates to the city. And if only the slave soldier had known his own father was the man leading the defense, and was the man Atreides slew with his own bare hands. Fate had conspired to allow this man to see the dawn of another day, and for good reason. Even with the gates swung open, the small detachment of the Grand Company that sent them were nearly wiped out by the defenders, and it was childs play to bring them low. Atreides was free, reporting back to the Grand Company, alone but successful. He began to make a name for himself, leading countless sieges and raids, each engagement earning another scar, another bionic replacement, another deed done in the dark gods names. But he had little desire to utilize slaves and mercenaries, he had his eyes on far more useful forces, as few Iron Warriors would willingly swear themselves to a former slave soldier. The fall of the 122nd Astrais Legion was a simple, but devious one. Atreides posed as a newly commissioned officer, arriving and quickly filtering out the commissars through 'Unfortunate Enemy Actions'. Instructing the now unpoliced regiment, it was easy to spirit the best of them away for his own personal use, and from those select few found worthy, would aid the Siegemaster in laying claim to both the title, and many victories for the Dark Gods. Aligned: Undivided Retinue: 50 Renegade Grenadiers, 15 Renegade Engineers, 15 Renegade Special Weapon Experts

Warhammer 40k: Out of the Warp (A chaos Centric 40k RP)

While I'm sure the Inquisition wouldn't approve of this deviation, I will certainly be joining in.

Fire Emblem: Light's End

Hey guys, so I'm in hospital. I'll be posting a bit later. Typing on my phone right now, doctor said I have five minutes to let my friends know what happened. I won;t be posting for a few days, or until someone brings me my laptop.

@Apollosarcher

Best wishes, and good luck with whatever is ailing you right now. Here's hoping for a fast, effective recovery.

War Never Ending.

The Air Marshall was not willing to sit and wait for long, there was a world to reclaim in the Emperor's name, and he wasn't going to have the 122nd Astryan Airborne only a footnote for having sat around waiting for a response or orders. Looking over to Atreides, Sturmburg nodded to the man before dispatching orders. "Master Sergeant, mobilize the Drop Troopers and prepare to deploy. We need your men to find a suitable ground base of operations to sortie from. The Marauders and Thunderbolts still have the ability to deploy from orbit, so we can still maintain air cover from here with them." Atreides nodded, making a brisk walk off the bridge before breaking into a smooth run, already on the vox with the Drop Troopers in the barracks. By the time the man had arrived, troopers were already on their way out, heading for the various flight decks built into their ship, where assigned Valkyries and Vulture escorts were on standby. Once a suitable operational facility was located, they would operate and deploy from there. Planetary scans revealed a highly elevated power station, currently on the border of Chaos held territory, that supplied nearby forges and also provided near total control over any who dared approach by land. That would be the fatal flaw in its defenses. Sturmburg remained in orbit to coordinate the aerial assaults while attempting to raise the other Imperials, so he could minimize the potential for friendly fire incidents, and begin joint arms actions against the Orks and Chaos heretics. Master Sergeant Atreides was watching the Space Marine deployments from the main hanger bay, leaning on one of the Valkyries as the first wave was almost embarked, his command squad moving their gear into the Valkyrie, which would drop off what couldn't be carred by hand after the plant was secured. Atreides could respect the drop pod approach, even if the Asartes were far better equipped than his men and women. A tap on the shoulder by his second in command alerted him the first wave was ready. "All Valkyrie pilots, stand by for deployment." The Master Sergeant stepped on board, as the engines roared to life and each craft's hatch shut and sealed against the void, creating the internal atmosphere most troops relied on until entering orbit. Drop troopers still had their own O2 systems hooked up just in case a stray AA round breached the hull. Once all pilots sounded off ready, Atreides gave the signal to launch the Valkyries, briefing the drop troopers as the first wave of transports shuddered and launched. "Alright ladies and gents, you know the stakes already. The heretics and greenskins want this place, we're here to give 'em a swift kick off world. For that, we need a surface side operations base. We found ourselves a border power plant, chaos held currently, that provides some rather marvelous overview of any approaching foes, be they by land or sometimes air. But they, Emperor willing, won't be looking too far up. We hit 'em from the inside out, set up our defenses, and let the Valkyries bring in heavier automated turrets to take over and our vehicles for further excursions. We jump high, engage the grav chutes low, minimize exposure time. Standard drill, really. Make me proud, Troopers, and let's raise some hell." There wouldn't be a roaring amount of blind bravado and chest pounding, they were all consummate professionals and experts, and some veterans, in their field of warfare. Like his own command squad, men and women were doing final checks on their weapons, from autoguns and hunting rifles to heavy stubbers, lascarbines, and mortars. Atreides own squad carried mostly autoguns, two of the ten regular Troopers carrying las carbines instead of autoguns, his second in command had his hunting rifle, while Atreides still favored his tried and true combat shotgun. The Valkyries were almost in position, the Troopers standing up to prepare to jump, double checking each other's grav chutes one last time. Atreides verified one of the troopers while another checked his own. All good to drop, and as they waited, he could hear vox reports as the first men and women made the jump, but before long, the hatch on the Valkyrie swung open, the high altitude sucking the artificial atmosphere clean out. By twos, each trooper jumped, Master Sergeant Atreides last to leave alongside his squad sniper. Most normal men and women, Guard or not, would find jumping out of their transport more than a handful of feet above ground suicidal, downright insane, or very likely both. Most weren't trained like the 122nd trained its Drop Troopers, however. It was another day jumping into some Chaos controlled hellhole to stick it to the daemon worshiping freaks. Atreides prayed that this border territory didn't have any daemons already summoned, they tended to complicate matters greatly. Even falling at terminal velocity, it took what felt like hours to begin properly zeroing in on their target. Atreides could see weapon fire beginning to spark off from troopers swooping in on grav chutes, unaware and unprepared Chaos heretics being cut down from the furious assault. Hitting the key altitude, Atreides barked his orders. "Troopers, deploy chutes and get to the walls, use the cover against them, Staff Sergeant, any leaders you spot leading the Heretics, put a round through their skull with your rifle. Corporal, cover and spot. The rest will be on me!" Atreides activated his grav chute, slowing his descent rather than trying to arrest it all at once, which was a rookie mistake. They weren't designed for that, but done properly, he was able to coast right onto the power plant outer barrier, wall he called it, and with a roll was on his feet without any ill consequences. Other troopers were landing, and while it literally rained hell on the heretics, Atreides vaulted off the wall and hit the ground running, other troopers following to take advantage of the shocked and disorganized heretic resistance. Atreides counted at least two heretics he personally dropped, buckshot tearing them down like so many targets at the range, and volley's of autogun and lasfire covering the heavy stubbers and grenade launchers as they began pouring fire into the main heretic holding point. Heading up to a vantage point, Atreides grabbed a trooper with one of the long range vox sets along the way, hauling him up to set a temporary communication link with the orbiting 122nd Airborne, opening a shaky communication line to inform Sturmburg of their process, before ordering the Staff Sergeant in charge of the vox to scan for Imperial chatter and patch him through, but until then, he moved down to continue organizing the purge of the power plant. Standing orders for Traitor Marines were simple, withdraw, and if pursued, krak grenade and focused fire on joints and other not heavy armor plated. Eye sockets, mainly, if joints failed. If they didn't pursue, bring up grenade launchers and heavy weapons to saturate the positions before moving in, preempted with krak and frag grenade deployment. Meltas were popular, and many Trooper squads had at least one melta for clearing out Traitor Marines. The operation took barely an hour before the Power Plant was swept from top to bottom, the preliminary sweep at any rate. Located a decent travel time, by ground, away from the nearest bombed out city made it a secure position, but patrols and sentries were to be organized. Marching into the control center of the power plant, which had been converted into a Guard command post, Master Sergeant Atreides began dispatching orders. "I want Drop Section Omega on sentry duty, get the walls manned, heavy weapons set up with overlapping fields of fire. As supply drops arrive, augment as necessary to free up Troopers to reinforce the walls and defenses. Section Zeta, combat engineering, get the walls patched and reinforced, use the drops to help Omega get the defenses in place. And make sure some of it is set up for AA, we don't know the full Chaos air power yet. Or greenskin, for that matter. The rest of you, full resweep of the plant. I don't want any nasty surprises. Foxholes, tunnels, anything suspicious or unusual, investigate after reporting. Vox operator, tear down and set up in the communication building, take your guards with you. Reroute communications here, and let me know if you can raise any of the other Imperials. Move out!"

Fire Emblem: Light's End

Mindless, senseless banter is always the answer.