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Warhammer 40k: Answering the Call - An Only War/Guard RP

@Bright_Ops

Warhammer 40k: Answering the Call - An Only War/Guard RP

@Jbcool is there a reason you abandon and delete your roleplays without a word? Asking for a friend.

@FrostedCaramel

There are most certainly reasons, although I'd like to ask what it is I'm supposed to have deleted, and who this friend may be? Can't say I much enjoy being asked by proxy.

The abandonment is correct, I'll hold my hands up to it, but as I say there are reasons - I don't generally or genuinely leave RPs to rot unless things are going on 'behind the scene'. In this case I've been working nights for almost two months and had the death of two relatives, generally I've not been in the best of moods and I apologise.

If people wish to go forward with this RP then I am happy to do so, with the caveat that - should I not be around - I am quite happy for those that are to move forward; the current situation could have easily been resolved by the players present, as it is I'll get a post up if that's the will of the people, and we'll be on our merry way.

WARHAMMER 40K: THE TARSON INCURSION

"Welcome to the group, Marshal Renai, I hope you enjoy your time with us."

The Apothecary was either oblivious or just ignored the awe that Elisha seemed to hold him in - having seen entire battalions of Guardsmen kneel before him before - one man's hero-worship affected the Chogorian very little anymore.

After lowering his weapon the Astartes simply listened to the Celestian and gave a slight incline of his head as acknowledgement, taking up a position behind the more fragile pair of mortals as they made their way back to the others.

It did not, and had not, escaped the Marines notice that Adrianne - their resident psyker, and therefore potential warp gatway - had been talking to herself (or someone else) for quite some time now...he would have to keep an eye on her.

"The Greenskins will fight anyone," agreed the White Wolf, "if we could bring the two into contact with one another, it could give our smaller group an edge; mix in the grenades, and truly it will be a great slaughter."

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

@Kratesis@BCTheEntity@jbeil@Andreyich@LemonZest1337@Irredeemable

Post made, and Emperor bless you all for your undying patience with my absolutely stupid life. Without it this RP assuredly have died a long time ago.

Now, assuming everyone's still about and willing to post, I intend to wrap this up and bring on a more 'leisurely' plotline afterward - just how leisurely is something you will find out, but I assure you that it will be most uncomfortable for some...

Ave Imperator.

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

@Kratesis@BCTheEntity@jbeil@Andreyich@LemonZest1337@Irredeemable

So the adversary in dark armour had fled, fled fast and deep into the bowels of the ship and - so they believed - away from harm and pursuit. In this they were wrong. The justice of the God-Emperor had no boundaries, no limits of endurance, it was swift and it was always there, and with the acceptance of the entire coterie of Sisters and their spiritual hangers-on it was about to delve into the depths of darkness.

A moment or two were given for the execution of still-breathing heretics, the preparation and blessing of weapons and armour, and the giving to Squad Victorine of a 'guide' in the form of Rating First Class Jefferson. He was a tall man in his middle-age, a jawline chiselled from stone peppered with dark stubble, his bodysuit clinging tight to his body and a shotgun clutched in his ham-like fists. All-in-all the Celestian had seen weaker men, and was happy that the Captain had volunteered him for this task.

One-by-one the squad moved out, the Celestian herself taking point with Jefferson at her side, the others of the formation filtering in behind them as they advanced along the corridor down which the evil mirror image of Kliment had fled.

If they believed it would take a short time to locate and eliminate, well, they were quite wrong.

Even after what seems like two hours, and with the possibility that their quarry may have evaded them, they had traversed to a section of the ship that even Jefferson was not familiar with; it was an incident not altogether out of place on an Imperial or former Imperial vessel, entire contingents becoming lost in the criss-crossing interior, and communities of abhumans or mutants making their homes like cleaner-fish clinging to a sharks underbelly.

"I have no knowledge of this route," admitted Jefferson with a grunt, kneeling next to a spot and lifting a damp finger, "but there's more blood here. It seems that one of you tagged the fraker."

Their quarry had been leaving spatterings of blood, and it was in this manner that they had been able to track him thus far, but soon they would come across something...someone...else.

It was perhaps half-an-hour later when Victorine turned about and motioned to the rest of her squad in Sororitas sign-language, her hands flicking in the dim tunnel light a message, or a warning, that they should remain still and that they were being watched and even tracked themselves.

"Greetings..." came a croaking voice from the almost black parts of an antechamber they had just entered, round and silent except for the thrumming of the ships engines, "who are you?"

"I am Sister-Celestian Victorine of the God-Emperor's Sororitas, make yourself known!"

There was a brief exchange of words and noises with other unseen individuals before a ragged, shambling, form almost materialised before her and Jefferson - the Rating automatically raising but not firing his weapon in one fluid motion.

"Name...name Old Gruk," muttered the masculine [i]thing[i] before her, its head covered in a shaggy beard and hair so long that it was tucked into a belt (very probably of flesh) wrapped about its waist, "Gruk live here, live here with family."

Clearly Gothic of any sort was not Gruk's first language, and Victorine kept her weapons either sheathed or by her side.

"We seek an enemy, a dark warrior, he is bleeding. Have you seen him?"

There was a sort of snort from beneath Gruk's hooded, monk-like, cowl, "yeth, we see him...he goes by us and we let him...he makes my family afraid."

Drawing back his hood, Gruk revealed a face so mishappen that even a mother couldn't love it, the face of a mutant! His eyes were too large and bulging for his face, his lips bloated and his overbite two canines dribbling saliva between them, his skin mottled and scaled somewhat.

"We...we shall help your family be less afraid, Old Gruk, but you must show us where he went."

It took all her effort not to strike down the mutant where he stood, ending another abomination to the Emperor and cleansing a ship that should not have such creatures living aboard it to begin with.

"A moment, Gruk will speak with family."

Once more he disappeared into the shadows, although his heat signature was visible to her helmets limited sensors, as were a multitude of others. During this time she turned to her own squad and kept her voice low.

"Thoughts? Our sacred duty it to purge filth such as this, but could it lead only to greater evil? I also fear that these things intend us eventual harm." She looked to Horacio then, "Confessor, what make you of this? We follow His words, and those of His representatives, what would the Ecclesiarchy say on this matter?"

Warhammer 40k: Answering the Call - An Only War/Guard RP

@Bright_Ops@Searat@Superboy@CaptainBritton@DocTachyon@BangoSkank

I'm assuming there will be some folk who aren't going to post then - considering its been a week since the last post - which means I'll get one up in the next day or so and we'll move on.

Warhammer Fantasy: The Guild of Esteemed Sellswords - An adventure in the Warhammer Fantasy world! [REBOOTED] [FULL]

"Well, Severo. What do you think? Should we talk, or let the stunted one charge in to distract them?"

The Estalian mused for a moment - a moment he knew he didn't really have - and ignored the obvious and overt jab at the Dwarfs, as any serious man would have done. Silently he watched the exchange between the cocksure Kislevite and the unseen bowman, only starting forward once one of two arrows took the dolt in his chest, not even caring as one of the few male ice mages (and not even a trained one at that) slashed the 'enemies' position.

"Balgrim...Vargni..." he espied the Middenlander and gestured for him as well, making his words as loud as possible, "and Meinhardt, comb these woods and flush them out."

Now they would see exactly what the unseen foe were made of, the two Dwarfs and the one man fanning out and soon heading toward the trees...

WARHAMMER 40K: THE TARSON INCURSION

Posted.

If @RangingWolf makes one wrong move he dies.

WARHAMMER 40K: THE TARSON INCURSION

'White Scar'.

Nergüi simply let a sigh escape his lips as he took one of the hallucinogenic grenades, his helms HUD scanning over it as thoroughly as possible and recording everything it could about the weapon for later analysis; it was not every day that one got to hold a weapon which was technically banned in the Imperium since the Horus Heresy.

"I fully trust your judgement." Now that was odd.

Mere moments later and something or someone was moving elsewhere, the Sister clearly having picked it up, the Astartes not even needing his helmet to pick up the scuffle.

"White Scar, follow me, we are going to go investigate the source of that sound. I want the rest of you to stay here and make sure nothing else happens."

Shifting his bolter into a firing position, pressed to his shoulder and prepared to fire at any moment, Nergüi strode carefully after the smaller figure - his glinting lenses like two pinpricks in the darkness of the tunnels, like some spirit from ancient mythology even - the breathing of someone who had recently been in combat sounding like drums in his ears.

"Stand down immediately and report soldier, who are you, how did you end up down here?"

Though she motioned for the Marine to raise his weapon it had never even left his shoulder, now he simply glared down at the rather odd-looking individual, his helmet unable to pull any other expression except that of 'very annoyed/angry' anyway.

Resol'nare - How the Mando Boys (and Girls) Won the War [Star Wars]

@HeySeuss I'm not going to hold you up, so I'll pull out before you pick any steam up; best if luck with this though, and I'll certainly keep an eye on it.