@Flamelord
Welp, it'll at least be interesting. Although it might end in a rather one-sided war.
Welp, it'll at least be interesting. Although it might end in a rather one-sided war.
thewizardguy
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- Last Seen: 3 yrs ago
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Username history
- thewizardguy 12 yrs ago
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Bio
Just a random guy, doing random things.
Main RP: Hell's Coffee Lounge
Current RPs change often enough that it's too much effort keeping a list of them updated.
Most Recent Posts
@Flamelord
Grinning, Dromari stepped forward, seeming unfazed. It appeared the Xenos had sent their leader. How pleasant. He'd been stuck on the back lines long enough, forced to suffer the arrogant attitudes of these filthy creatures in silence. But despite his personal grudges, he did recognise that this was a diplomatically charged situation, and rash action could have unfortunate and long-lasting consequences. Warfare with the Goa'Uld would form a rather troublesome distraction from the Tyranid threat. Besides, there was no doubt the commander had his own little reinforcements in wait. There was no way in shit he'd simply placed himself out here for all to see, trusting in the 'good intentions' of the Imperium to save his sorry little ass. "Excellently worded, xeno. Excuse me if I'm not as fancy a speaker. I'm a simple man, you see, and I see things in a simple matters. So if, say, a stealth craft moves out of Imperial Space " he didn't even hesitate as he blatantly claimed Arcadia to already belong to the Imperium "carrying all the necessities to build em a little colony, then it seems to me like something's amiss. See, honest folk don't carry some of the fanciest stealth gear in the universe. That's the kind of stuff you find on someone who knows they're breaking the rules, no?"
For a moment, Dromari waited, deciding how to proceed. Obviously, he'd be able to rip through whatever forces Baal had assembled here, although their commander might simply port away. There was tech to block Warp-based travel, but nothing had as of yet been designed to counter the Goa'Uld technology. Damn slow-ass techpriests. But sparking a war was perhaps not the best course of action, and he had not received orders to initiate such a conflict. "So, you've set up your little camp here, but we both know that there are more pressing matters at hand. Looks to me you wanna run off Arcadia now the ground's got warm beneath your feet. So let's make a deal here, and avoid any unnecessary hassle, yeah? You leave your ground on Arcadia behind for folks who can get some use out of it, and wait over here while we fight off the scary aliens." If there was one thing that was well known about the Goa'Uld, it was their sense of pride. It was one of the reasons Dromari loved em. All of the sense of self-importance of the Eldar, none of the cunning to back it up. "Course, alternatively, we could send you back to Arcadia, deal with the Tyranid, and then discuss this shit later like civilized folks. Or we could fight it out here, start a little war, and get eaten together. But I'd hope that even a parasite like you would see the pointlessness in getting killed for no reason." If necessary, Company Master Dromari would gladly begin a war here. But such things were better avoided, at least until the greater threat was dealt with.
Grinning, Dromari stepped forward, seeming unfazed. It appeared the Xenos had sent their leader. How pleasant. He'd been stuck on the back lines long enough, forced to suffer the arrogant attitudes of these filthy creatures in silence. But despite his personal grudges, he did recognise that this was a diplomatically charged situation, and rash action could have unfortunate and long-lasting consequences. Warfare with the Goa'Uld would form a rather troublesome distraction from the Tyranid threat. Besides, there was no doubt the commander had his own little reinforcements in wait. There was no way in shit he'd simply placed himself out here for all to see, trusting in the 'good intentions' of the Imperium to save his sorry little ass. "Excellently worded, xeno. Excuse me if I'm not as fancy a speaker. I'm a simple man, you see, and I see things in a simple matters. So if, say, a stealth craft moves out of Imperial Space " he didn't even hesitate as he blatantly claimed Arcadia to already belong to the Imperium "carrying all the necessities to build em a little colony, then it seems to me like something's amiss. See, honest folk don't carry some of the fanciest stealth gear in the universe. That's the kind of stuff you find on someone who knows they're breaking the rules, no?"
For a moment, Dromari waited, deciding how to proceed. Obviously, he'd be able to rip through whatever forces Baal had assembled here, although their commander might simply port away. There was tech to block Warp-based travel, but nothing had as of yet been designed to counter the Goa'Uld technology. Damn slow-ass techpriests. But sparking a war was perhaps not the best course of action, and he had not received orders to initiate such a conflict. "So, you've set up your little camp here, but we both know that there are more pressing matters at hand. Looks to me you wanna run off Arcadia now the ground's got warm beneath your feet. So let's make a deal here, and avoid any unnecessary hassle, yeah? You leave your ground on Arcadia behind for folks who can get some use out of it, and wait over here while we fight off the scary aliens." If there was one thing that was well known about the Goa'Uld, it was their sense of pride. It was one of the reasons Dromari loved em. All of the sense of self-importance of the Eldar, none of the cunning to back it up. "Course, alternatively, we could send you back to Arcadia, deal with the Tyranid, and then discuss this shit later like civilized folks. Or we could fight it out here, start a little war, and get eaten together. But I'd hope that even a parasite like you would see the pointlessness in getting killed for no reason." If necessary, Company Master Dromari would gladly begin a war here. But such things were better avoided, at least until the greater threat was dealt with.
@Flamelord
A burst of energy could be felt throughout the entire system, as the fabric of reality rippled and ruptured. A huge rip in space appeared near the edge of the system, purple lightning and fire bursting forth from it, surrounded in a cloud of strange material that appeared to dissipate moments after leaving this strange phenomenon. Energy readings from this rift would be absurd, but it would be clear this was an interdimensional phenomenon of some sort. Perhaps more worrying than the chaotic Warp energies, however, was the truly immense ship that slowly pushed it's way through them. Like a wall of steel the prow came first, an energy shield pushing away the unnatural energies of the warp as the Devastation entered realspace. Upon first glance, the ship might well have been mistaken for a flying castly of some description, covered in impossibly large and numerous canons after some orkish sense of fashion. But the immense thrusters and general design quickly made it clear that this was merely a spaceship of unconventional design, covered in towering parapets and walls, actual fabric flags and banners lining the ship itself in the hundreds. Of course, any ridicule one might have for the design was quickly suppressed by the realization that the immense canon mounted below what appeared to be it's prow-mounted ram was over 20x the size of the Tel'Tac itself, and the transport ship could have comfortably flown up the barrel had that not been the literal worst idea.
Company Master Dromari Arkon stood imperiously upon the main command deck, glaring down at the other command crew working below as vital information was forwarded to him via the voxel-piece which had been implanted into his skull. He was a grim-faced commander, veteran of many wars, with short grey hair and piercing eyes the colour of storm clouds. Nearly 200 years ago he had been impaled through the skull by an Eldar force blade, although that had only slowed him down. The eye he had lost was later replaced by the Adeptus Mechanicus, a mechanical little piece that extended along the side of his head until it touched the base of his spine. A nearby servitor rattled off the traits of the various planets in the system in it's monotone robotic voice, going over any signs that might be used to determine the nature and number of their enemies. A nearby techmarine meanwhile translated that from gibberish into something useful, informing him that a powerful energy signature had been detected on a nearby planet. While there was no significant enemy presence in the system, something had definitely used a significant amount of energy on the planet's surface mere moments ago.
For a moment, Dromari considered simply performing Exterminatus on the planet, the old tried-and-true method of erasing any and all opposition on the planet. Not even an Ork infestation was stubborn enough to survive that. And although the Devastation alone was not equipped for the full Exterminatus procedure, with some efforts they would probably be able to wipe away most of the surface and completely annihilate the atmosphere in just about a day. However, Azrael would have his head on a platter if he didn't at least confirm what the threat was before blowing it into oblivion. Besides, he was no fan of long-ranged combat. Truly, what was the point of serving the immortal Emperor if one didn't get to see the filthy buggers' faces when they were introduced to His might. "Prepare the Teleportarium for deployment procedure. I want a full Battle Company on the ground within the hour." He himself headed off, command of the ship automatically passing on to a nearby Techmarine. If combat broke out, he would need to be on the front lines.
Less than thirty minutes after the Devastation had first entered the system, without so much as a transmission indicating the intentions of the invaders, waves upon waves of Space Marines would appear on the surface. Drop Pods were launched down to increase the speed of deployment, carrying heavy armour and supplies, things too large to be teleported down. Weaponry was set up and assembled for combat, as an entire company mobilized for war, in what was perhaps the most hilariously out-of-proportion reaction since anyone reacted in any fashion to the Imperial Guard. After about ten minutes more of set-up, the by now undoubtedly prepared Goa'Uld would find a small army marching towards their temporary base, numbering approximately 100 marines and including no less than 7 tanks, in addition to several large artillery canons on wheels.
As for Dromari, he marched at the front of the group, surrounded by a Command Squad. His heavy Terminator Armour further augmented his height, and he cut an imposing figure, covered in seals and scrolls recounting his many deeds, as well as inscribing the blessings of the Emperor onto his very armour. His weapon of choice was the mighty Thunder Hammer, a weapon wreathed in constant lightning and carrying behind it the force of a cruise missile. In his off hand he held a Storm Bolter, a shorter-range version of the Bolter with two barrels, allowing for twice the usual amount of destruction. The Iron Halo mounted above his head projected a force field around him to defend him against enemy attacks. The veterans serving by his side served to relay his orders to the rest of the company, as well as supporting him in battle, the massive banner they carried forming a rallying point for the army in more ways than one.
The Goa'Uld would have their choice as to how to respond to this seemingly hostile force. They did not immediately enter the vicinity of their base, but rather had several strange floating skulls with mechanical implants fly around the area, presumably scanning the area and identifying any threats. Dromari's loud voice would echo out towards the Goa'Uld outpost. "It looks like a couple of xenos figured this was a good time to go breaking accords, eh men? Surrender at once, and we'll pack this little thing up quick. You'll be scanned for a Tyranid infection, and sent back home in one piece." The man's voice was the voice of a man who expected to be obeyed, although by moving ahead of the bulk of his army he had made himself vulnerable to attack. He was not entirely devoid of strategic insight, however, and a full unit of Whirlwind artillery tanks was primed and ready to fire from a nearby hill. The bulk of his army also wasn't far behind him, allowing them to rush in should their commander be attacked.
A burst of energy could be felt throughout the entire system, as the fabric of reality rippled and ruptured. A huge rip in space appeared near the edge of the system, purple lightning and fire bursting forth from it, surrounded in a cloud of strange material that appeared to dissipate moments after leaving this strange phenomenon. Energy readings from this rift would be absurd, but it would be clear this was an interdimensional phenomenon of some sort. Perhaps more worrying than the chaotic Warp energies, however, was the truly immense ship that slowly pushed it's way through them. Like a wall of steel the prow came first, an energy shield pushing away the unnatural energies of the warp as the Devastation entered realspace. Upon first glance, the ship might well have been mistaken for a flying castly of some description, covered in impossibly large and numerous canons after some orkish sense of fashion. But the immense thrusters and general design quickly made it clear that this was merely a spaceship of unconventional design, covered in towering parapets and walls, actual fabric flags and banners lining the ship itself in the hundreds. Of course, any ridicule one might have for the design was quickly suppressed by the realization that the immense canon mounted below what appeared to be it's prow-mounted ram was over 20x the size of the Tel'Tac itself, and the transport ship could have comfortably flown up the barrel had that not been the literal worst idea.
Company Master Dromari Arkon stood imperiously upon the main command deck, glaring down at the other command crew working below as vital information was forwarded to him via the voxel-piece which had been implanted into his skull. He was a grim-faced commander, veteran of many wars, with short grey hair and piercing eyes the colour of storm clouds. Nearly 200 years ago he had been impaled through the skull by an Eldar force blade, although that had only slowed him down. The eye he had lost was later replaced by the Adeptus Mechanicus, a mechanical little piece that extended along the side of his head until it touched the base of his spine. A nearby servitor rattled off the traits of the various planets in the system in it's monotone robotic voice, going over any signs that might be used to determine the nature and number of their enemies. A nearby techmarine meanwhile translated that from gibberish into something useful, informing him that a powerful energy signature had been detected on a nearby planet. While there was no significant enemy presence in the system, something had definitely used a significant amount of energy on the planet's surface mere moments ago.
For a moment, Dromari considered simply performing Exterminatus on the planet, the old tried-and-true method of erasing any and all opposition on the planet. Not even an Ork infestation was stubborn enough to survive that. And although the Devastation alone was not equipped for the full Exterminatus procedure, with some efforts they would probably be able to wipe away most of the surface and completely annihilate the atmosphere in just about a day. However, Azrael would have his head on a platter if he didn't at least confirm what the threat was before blowing it into oblivion. Besides, he was no fan of long-ranged combat. Truly, what was the point of serving the immortal Emperor if one didn't get to see the filthy buggers' faces when they were introduced to His might. "Prepare the Teleportarium for deployment procedure. I want a full Battle Company on the ground within the hour." He himself headed off, command of the ship automatically passing on to a nearby Techmarine. If combat broke out, he would need to be on the front lines.
Less than thirty minutes after the Devastation had first entered the system, without so much as a transmission indicating the intentions of the invaders, waves upon waves of Space Marines would appear on the surface. Drop Pods were launched down to increase the speed of deployment, carrying heavy armour and supplies, things too large to be teleported down. Weaponry was set up and assembled for combat, as an entire company mobilized for war, in what was perhaps the most hilariously out-of-proportion reaction since anyone reacted in any fashion to the Imperial Guard. After about ten minutes more of set-up, the by now undoubtedly prepared Goa'Uld would find a small army marching towards their temporary base, numbering approximately 100 marines and including no less than 7 tanks, in addition to several large artillery canons on wheels.
As for Dromari, he marched at the front of the group, surrounded by a Command Squad. His heavy Terminator Armour further augmented his height, and he cut an imposing figure, covered in seals and scrolls recounting his many deeds, as well as inscribing the blessings of the Emperor onto his very armour. His weapon of choice was the mighty Thunder Hammer, a weapon wreathed in constant lightning and carrying behind it the force of a cruise missile. In his off hand he held a Storm Bolter, a shorter-range version of the Bolter with two barrels, allowing for twice the usual amount of destruction. The Iron Halo mounted above his head projected a force field around him to defend him against enemy attacks. The veterans serving by his side served to relay his orders to the rest of the company, as well as supporting him in battle, the massive banner they carried forming a rallying point for the army in more ways than one.
The Goa'Uld would have their choice as to how to respond to this seemingly hostile force. They did not immediately enter the vicinity of their base, but rather had several strange floating skulls with mechanical implants fly around the area, presumably scanning the area and identifying any threats. Dromari's loud voice would echo out towards the Goa'Uld outpost. "It looks like a couple of xenos figured this was a good time to go breaking accords, eh men? Surrender at once, and we'll pack this little thing up quick. You'll be scanned for a Tyranid infection, and sent back home in one piece." The man's voice was the voice of a man who expected to be obeyed, although by moving ahead of the bulk of his army he had made himself vulnerable to attack. He was not entirely devoid of strategic insight, however, and a full unit of Whirlwind artillery tanks was primed and ready to fire from a nearby hill. The bulk of his army also wasn't far behind him, allowing them to rush in should their commander be attacked.
@supertinyking
The figure raises it's shield to block the sawblades, which seem to bounce harmlessly off of it. It was made from some off super-hard metal, far tougher than a similar object made from steel, in addition to being slightly magical. However, as Ozo fired a second barrage of sawblades, the warrior instead moved to slap them aside with his sword, charging forward and through them while keeping his shield at the ready for additional attacks. His movements were impossibly practised, elegant and yet practical, comparable only to the true prodigies of combat only rarely seen among mortal races. He never halted his advance as he swung blow after blow, forcing Ozo backwards rapidly. Even as Ozo thought to have gained a mokment's respite, the figure raises a strange symbol in on hand, and a blast of force shot out from it. The white wave crashed explosively into the ground near Ozo, launching him into a nearby wall. Apparently this form too was quite capable of wielding magic.
Slowly but purposefully the figure marched forward, tossing a car aside with one hand as he made his way to Ozo's position. It appeared that this fight was going to end soon, either way. However, before attacking, the stranger paused. He gestured towards the ground, and a series of fiery runes glowed up brightly, spelling out a message. It said... "Praise the Sun!" It was then that the figure struck, slashing downwards with their lightning-covered blade. If Ozo didn't move, he would be simultaneously sliced into pieces and electrocuted.
- the Stranger -
The figure raises it's shield to block the sawblades, which seem to bounce harmlessly off of it. It was made from some off super-hard metal, far tougher than a similar object made from steel, in addition to being slightly magical. However, as Ozo fired a second barrage of sawblades, the warrior instead moved to slap them aside with his sword, charging forward and through them while keeping his shield at the ready for additional attacks. His movements were impossibly practised, elegant and yet practical, comparable only to the true prodigies of combat only rarely seen among mortal races. He never halted his advance as he swung blow after blow, forcing Ozo backwards rapidly. Even as Ozo thought to have gained a mokment's respite, the figure raises a strange symbol in on hand, and a blast of force shot out from it. The white wave crashed explosively into the ground near Ozo, launching him into a nearby wall. Apparently this form too was quite capable of wielding magic.
Slowly but purposefully the figure marched forward, tossing a car aside with one hand as he made his way to Ozo's position. It appeared that this fight was going to end soon, either way. However, before attacking, the stranger paused. He gestured towards the ground, and a series of fiery runes glowed up brightly, spelling out a message. It said... "Praise the Sun!" It was then that the figure struck, slashing downwards with their lightning-covered blade. If Ozo didn't move, he would be simultaneously sliced into pieces and electrocuted.
@supertinyking@Tyki
Rhemus sighed at the creature's Eldar-esque superiority complex. Apparently some things remained constant, even in the multiverse. The weird psychic alien would always feel too good for the world. Regardless, it's mannerisms annoyed him more than it's tone. "Clearly your species is too 'advanced' to understand concepts such as privacy. Be aware that my people take such concepts very seriously. Read my thoughts again, and I will have you killed." The words were no bluff, nor were they born from pointless pride. The Dark Angels were masters of secrets, guarding knowledge that could end or start galaxy-spanning wars. Understandably, they were quite strict about mind reading, and were this not a tense social situation the xenos would already have been killed, just for having the potential to read the mind of an Interromancer. Such was the dedication to secrecy possessed by the Dark Angels. Should Xel'Rath ignore the warning and continue to prod the Librarian's mind, Rhemus would instantly and unquestioningly give the order to open fire upon the xenos.
As Martin revealed the data, the Librarian gave it a brief look over. Not being a techmarine, he had little understanding of what this information meant (maybe they should have brought one of those), but this was the objective they had been sent to retrieve. A quick message sent via Vox communications alerted the Thunderhawk they'd held in reserve. The large gunship flew in soon after, landing in a nearby open zone which had been located and prepared by Squad Delta. The entire time Squad Alpha kept Xel'Rath in their sights, not quite readying their weapons, but definitely prepared for a fight. Martin would be given a brief guide on the Imperium's politics and rulership by Amon, as well as the information that if he so wished he would be granted full citizenship within the Imperium. Alternatively, he could choose to work in the Imperium's Militia Mechanicum, an alternative scientific branch from the Adeptus Mechanicum formed from local scientists and factions who chose to ally themselves with the Imperium.
Meanwhile, Rhemus also received the Imperium's emergency message on his Voxcaster. Frowning, he gestured for his fellow marines to standby, before sharing the bad news. "It appears that the Imperium is mobilizing against the Tyranid threat." He turned towards Xel'Rath. "Alien. A dangerous race of monstrous creatures has emerged on this planet, and will soon begin devouring it. Our Imperium is currently attempting to rally this world's factions against this threat. I would like to personally ask for your assistance in dealing with this threat, with the promise that the Imperium will attempt to satisfy any requirements you see fit to apply." Rhemus was sincere in this offer, knowing that even a single being could make a vast difference in such wars, and Xel'Rath's telepathic prowes might be immensely useful to gather information, even if he turned out to be useless in combat. Meanwhile, the Thunderhawk landed behind him, it's large forward-facing door already lowering to allow the gathered forces to board.
- Strike Squad -
Rhemus sighed at the creature's Eldar-esque superiority complex. Apparently some things remained constant, even in the multiverse. The weird psychic alien would always feel too good for the world. Regardless, it's mannerisms annoyed him more than it's tone. "Clearly your species is too 'advanced' to understand concepts such as privacy. Be aware that my people take such concepts very seriously. Read my thoughts again, and I will have you killed." The words were no bluff, nor were they born from pointless pride. The Dark Angels were masters of secrets, guarding knowledge that could end or start galaxy-spanning wars. Understandably, they were quite strict about mind reading, and were this not a tense social situation the xenos would already have been killed, just for having the potential to read the mind of an Interromancer. Such was the dedication to secrecy possessed by the Dark Angels. Should Xel'Rath ignore the warning and continue to prod the Librarian's mind, Rhemus would instantly and unquestioningly give the order to open fire upon the xenos.
As Martin revealed the data, the Librarian gave it a brief look over. Not being a techmarine, he had little understanding of what this information meant (maybe they should have brought one of those), but this was the objective they had been sent to retrieve. A quick message sent via Vox communications alerted the Thunderhawk they'd held in reserve. The large gunship flew in soon after, landing in a nearby open zone which had been located and prepared by Squad Delta. The entire time Squad Alpha kept Xel'Rath in their sights, not quite readying their weapons, but definitely prepared for a fight. Martin would be given a brief guide on the Imperium's politics and rulership by Amon, as well as the information that if he so wished he would be granted full citizenship within the Imperium. Alternatively, he could choose to work in the Imperium's Militia Mechanicum, an alternative scientific branch from the Adeptus Mechanicum formed from local scientists and factions who chose to ally themselves with the Imperium.
Meanwhile, Rhemus also received the Imperium's emergency message on his Voxcaster. Frowning, he gestured for his fellow marines to standby, before sharing the bad news. "It appears that the Imperium is mobilizing against the Tyranid threat." He turned towards Xel'Rath. "Alien. A dangerous race of monstrous creatures has emerged on this planet, and will soon begin devouring it. Our Imperium is currently attempting to rally this world's factions against this threat. I would like to personally ask for your assistance in dealing with this threat, with the promise that the Imperium will attempt to satisfy any requirements you see fit to apply." Rhemus was sincere in this offer, knowing that even a single being could make a vast difference in such wars, and Xel'Rath's telepathic prowes might be immensely useful to gather information, even if he turned out to be useless in combat. Meanwhile, the Thunderhawk landed behind him, it's large forward-facing door already lowering to allow the gathered forces to board.
@Wraithblade6
Silently, the Primarch sat and listened to his strange guest, allowing the tale to play out. Certainly these were worrying words. As Mithias finished his plea, the giant took a moment to contemplate his next actions. For just a moment he allowed himself to reminisce on the brief peace he had achieved, before condemning himself to war. "As long as there are men willing to fight for what is right, there is always hope. This is one of the lessons my father taught me." Vulkan sighed as he stood. "If this enemy wishes a battle, then we shall give him what he wants. But we will not fall as easily as he believes. There is no force in the multiverse capable of standing up to the unbridled will of humananity united towards a common goal. This is the lesson we will teach him. We can fight the Tyranid, but only if we all fight as one. But the Emperor is with us, and good men yet draw arms against evil." With a gesture, Vulkan summoned a small army of servitors, mechanically augmented human computers, who marched out from behind the pillars. "Prepare all weaponry, reinforce the border. I want every capable man and women guarding the shore. Order a maintained light bombardment of the area formerly occupied by the peace building. Send in servo skulls in order to track our enemies, and ensure this sector is safe from a space-based attack. Prepare for Project Omega."
Without pause, Vulkan turned back to Mithias, even as the biomechanical servants disappeared back into the pillars, presumably to prepare the Imperium for the task ahead of it. "You claim this Alucard is a vampire, as you are. As such, you will be required to share any and all information on the known weaknesses and abilities of this species, as well as a blood sample. We will develop special countermeasures to deal with this threat, and prepare for this master." He frowns, before smiling brightly, as if he had an idea. "I wouldn't trust your Alliance to wax my table, but you are a good man." With another gesture, a tall figure in black Astartes armour and wielding wolverine-like silver claws appears from behind a nearby pillar. "From now on, you are the official commander of the 3rd company of the Black Dragons chapter. Approximately 100 of our warriors are now under your control. You have full permission to deploy in Imperium space, and to act independently from the Empire. You may deploy these warriors alongside your Alliance forces, or individually, as you see fit. You possess more information on the enemy than any other, and if he felt the need to contact you personally, you may play a greater role in this conflict than you realise. I will gather the other factions, including your masters, and prepare for a unified council of war to deal with this threat. Feel free to make use of the Imperium's armoury." The armoured black figure hesitated for a moment, seemingly confused, before kneeling down in Mithias' direction.
As Vulkan marched off, he briefly slowed down, looking back. He winked mischieviously. "have a cookie on your way out, Mithias. It may be a while before I'll have the time to bake another batch."
@Absolis@Savato@Flamelord
Two signals were launched from the Rock that day, both direct broadcasts from the Lord Vulkan, Primarch of the Salamanders and Acting Lord of the New Imperium. The first was an unsecured broadcast sent out from every station the Imperium possessed, practically blasting every other non-secured transmission out of the air. Almost every frequency resounded with this call. "This planet has been compromised by a powerful xenos threat referred to as the Tyranid Swarm. The entirety of Arcadia is under threat. For this reason, Arcadia offers shelter to any who wish for it, provided they sacrifice any weapons they may be carrying it. Any criminal or deserter who wishes for amnesty or sanctuary is to be granted it, and the blessing of the Emperor, should they fight by the side of the Imperium, or any other faction opposing the Tyranid Swarm. This message is not a warning. It is a call to war."
The second message was sent to several specific locations, and encrypted in a specific manner to ensure it's contents remained private. It was a level of security those involved would be both familiar and comfortable with. Each of the acknowledged factions received this message specifically, targetting the highest hierarchical rank the Imperium could reach directly. "The threat that destroyed the peace meeting forms a threat to all of Arcaida's inhabitants. An informant by the name of Mithias Varomere has granted information of crucial importance, and a secondary meeting will be established at the time and coordinates below to share and discuss this information. For the moment, all other matters are to be discarded in favour of the destruction of this threat. The ever-expanding threat of the Tyranids, if left unchecked, could soon devour this entire galaxy. Through a process of assimilation and alteration they devour all usable minerals on a planet, leaving it nothing but a barren lifeless wasteland. It is estimated that within 14 days this world will have been completely devoured, along with all organic life on the surface. According to the Imperium's past experience with these critters, 4 months after the planet is devoured over 50% of the galaxy will have been reduced to nothingness. Before a hundred years have passed, this entire universe will be nothing more than a hive of Tyranid, and considering the existence of the terminals, they might swiftly spread to devour many other universes afterwards in an exponentially growing multiversal purge." The message contained coordinates located in the wastes between the Alliance and Imperium territories, near the city of Winnipeg. The timestamp required all leaders to be there the next day. It also ensured that Vulkan himself would attend. No rules and conditions as to who may or may not attend were specified, nor was there any warning as to military presence. It appeared such matters were no longer relevant.
- Vulkan -
Silently, the Primarch sat and listened to his strange guest, allowing the tale to play out. Certainly these were worrying words. As Mithias finished his plea, the giant took a moment to contemplate his next actions. For just a moment he allowed himself to reminisce on the brief peace he had achieved, before condemning himself to war. "As long as there are men willing to fight for what is right, there is always hope. This is one of the lessons my father taught me." Vulkan sighed as he stood. "If this enemy wishes a battle, then we shall give him what he wants. But we will not fall as easily as he believes. There is no force in the multiverse capable of standing up to the unbridled will of humananity united towards a common goal. This is the lesson we will teach him. We can fight the Tyranid, but only if we all fight as one. But the Emperor is with us, and good men yet draw arms against evil." With a gesture, Vulkan summoned a small army of servitors, mechanically augmented human computers, who marched out from behind the pillars. "Prepare all weaponry, reinforce the border. I want every capable man and women guarding the shore. Order a maintained light bombardment of the area formerly occupied by the peace building. Send in servo skulls in order to track our enemies, and ensure this sector is safe from a space-based attack. Prepare for Project Omega."
Without pause, Vulkan turned back to Mithias, even as the biomechanical servants disappeared back into the pillars, presumably to prepare the Imperium for the task ahead of it. "You claim this Alucard is a vampire, as you are. As such, you will be required to share any and all information on the known weaknesses and abilities of this species, as well as a blood sample. We will develop special countermeasures to deal with this threat, and prepare for this master." He frowns, before smiling brightly, as if he had an idea. "I wouldn't trust your Alliance to wax my table, but you are a good man." With another gesture, a tall figure in black Astartes armour and wielding wolverine-like silver claws appears from behind a nearby pillar. "From now on, you are the official commander of the 3rd company of the Black Dragons chapter. Approximately 100 of our warriors are now under your control. You have full permission to deploy in Imperium space, and to act independently from the Empire. You may deploy these warriors alongside your Alliance forces, or individually, as you see fit. You possess more information on the enemy than any other, and if he felt the need to contact you personally, you may play a greater role in this conflict than you realise. I will gather the other factions, including your masters, and prepare for a unified council of war to deal with this threat. Feel free to make use of the Imperium's armoury." The armoured black figure hesitated for a moment, seemingly confused, before kneeling down in Mithias' direction.
As Vulkan marched off, he briefly slowed down, looking back. He winked mischieviously. "have a cookie on your way out, Mithias. It may be a while before I'll have the time to bake another batch."
@Absolis@Savato@Flamelord
Two signals were launched from the Rock that day, both direct broadcasts from the Lord Vulkan, Primarch of the Salamanders and Acting Lord of the New Imperium. The first was an unsecured broadcast sent out from every station the Imperium possessed, practically blasting every other non-secured transmission out of the air. Almost every frequency resounded with this call. "This planet has been compromised by a powerful xenos threat referred to as the Tyranid Swarm. The entirety of Arcadia is under threat. For this reason, Arcadia offers shelter to any who wish for it, provided they sacrifice any weapons they may be carrying it. Any criminal or deserter who wishes for amnesty or sanctuary is to be granted it, and the blessing of the Emperor, should they fight by the side of the Imperium, or any other faction opposing the Tyranid Swarm. This message is not a warning. It is a call to war."
The second message was sent to several specific locations, and encrypted in a specific manner to ensure it's contents remained private. It was a level of security those involved would be both familiar and comfortable with. Each of the acknowledged factions received this message specifically, targetting the highest hierarchical rank the Imperium could reach directly. "The threat that destroyed the peace meeting forms a threat to all of Arcaida's inhabitants. An informant by the name of Mithias Varomere has granted information of crucial importance, and a secondary meeting will be established at the time and coordinates below to share and discuss this information. For the moment, all other matters are to be discarded in favour of the destruction of this threat. The ever-expanding threat of the Tyranids, if left unchecked, could soon devour this entire galaxy. Through a process of assimilation and alteration they devour all usable minerals on a planet, leaving it nothing but a barren lifeless wasteland. It is estimated that within 14 days this world will have been completely devoured, along with all organic life on the surface. According to the Imperium's past experience with these critters, 4 months after the planet is devoured over 50% of the galaxy will have been reduced to nothingness. Before a hundred years have passed, this entire universe will be nothing more than a hive of Tyranid, and considering the existence of the terminals, they might swiftly spread to devour many other universes afterwards in an exponentially growing multiversal purge." The message contained coordinates located in the wastes between the Alliance and Imperium territories, near the city of Winnipeg. The timestamp required all leaders to be there the next day. It also ensured that Vulkan himself would attend. No rules and conditions as to who may or may not attend were specified, nor was there any warning as to military presence. It appeared such matters were no longer relevant.
@Gentlemanvaultboy
Viral moved his blade to block the cabbage disdainfully, before a blast of blue fire launched straight through it. Were he in better shape he might have dodged to the side, but his nose was filled with the smell of burnt flesh, and his eyes were covered in his own blood. His blade caught the fireball, but, the nature of flame being what it is, failed to do much to stop it. Blue flames rushed over him and through him, his entire right side being engulfed as he shouted out. He was forced to his knees, and when the flames began to fade, it was clear that his entire right arm had been burned to ash. His blade lay on the floor not far from him, glowing brightly and warped by the immense heat. No longer fit to act as an implement of war, much like Viral himself. Even his regeneration would not soon return his arm to him, and without it he was little more than prey.
Breathing heavily, Viral leaned on his one remaining arm, staring down at the ground. He made no attempt to get up, or find another weapon. His pain would slow him too greatly, his missing limb hinder his combat capabilities. Just moving right now was an arduous task indeed, every bone in his body screaming at him to just lie down and die. Every breath filled his lungs with fire, and somehow his missing arm still felt like it was on fire. And yet, slowly, Viral forced his way to his feet. He stood, albeit barely, opposite Firebrand, glaring him in the eye as he drew ragged breath. "Well? Kill me, and get this over with. I've got places to be." Even Lord Genome's powers had their limits, and as such so did Viral's 'immortality'.
- Viral -
Viral moved his blade to block the cabbage disdainfully, before a blast of blue fire launched straight through it. Were he in better shape he might have dodged to the side, but his nose was filled with the smell of burnt flesh, and his eyes were covered in his own blood. His blade caught the fireball, but, the nature of flame being what it is, failed to do much to stop it. Blue flames rushed over him and through him, his entire right side being engulfed as he shouted out. He was forced to his knees, and when the flames began to fade, it was clear that his entire right arm had been burned to ash. His blade lay on the floor not far from him, glowing brightly and warped by the immense heat. No longer fit to act as an implement of war, much like Viral himself. Even his regeneration would not soon return his arm to him, and without it he was little more than prey.
Breathing heavily, Viral leaned on his one remaining arm, staring down at the ground. He made no attempt to get up, or find another weapon. His pain would slow him too greatly, his missing limb hinder his combat capabilities. Just moving right now was an arduous task indeed, every bone in his body screaming at him to just lie down and die. Every breath filled his lungs with fire, and somehow his missing arm still felt like it was on fire. And yet, slowly, Viral forced his way to his feet. He stood, albeit barely, opposite Firebrand, glaring him in the eye as he drew ragged breath. "Well? Kill me, and get this over with. I've got places to be." Even Lord Genome's powers had their limits, and as such so did Viral's 'immortality'.
Sorry for my absence. My birthday just happened, so there was much partying. Didn't have time for posts.
- Viral -
@Gentlemanvaultboy@supertinyking@Nightknight@Absolis@Gentlemanvaultboy
Slashing, ducking and diving, Viral fought like a furious and unrelenting beast. Heavy blows missed or grazed him as he rained strikes down on his opponent. But this 'demon' was no slouch either, as Viral's blades were deflected from their mark by skillful use of his opponent's heavy armour. It was a style of fighting Viral was not used to, as the use of heavy armour was all but dead on his world. Both struggled to apply a lifetime of combat experience to their opponent's odd style of fighting, making for a fight of constant adaptation and shifts in stance, as each attempted to predict the other's moves. However, Viral knew he had the advantage with his superior speed, capable of avoiding all of the larger and bulkier demon's attacks. His stamina was practically unlimited, making it merely a matter of time before this opponent was taken down, and he would move on to the next.
Then, Firebrand did something unexpected. A wave of fire and wind burst from the creature's mouth, launching Viral in the air even as it burned skin and fur alike. After several movements of being tossed around within the flaming tornado like a ragdoll he slammed into the ruins of a nearby cabbage stand. Still on fire, he slowly clawed his way out of the rubble, pieces of wood and nails sticking through his flesh all over his body. Hissing, he removed them, even as flesh regrew and burned skin peeled off. The new look appeared to feature a significantly increased amount of revealed bone and shattered limbs, although that appeared to be fixing itself. "Is... that... all you've got? Heh. This won't take much longer." Once more recovering his blade from the ground, Viral shot forward, ready to reengage his enemy as if nothing had happened.
- Empire Strike Squad -
@Tyki@supertinyking@Nightknight
Rhemus looked over to the mutant, as he made his intentions clear to the anomalous xeno. It was certainly a fiery exchange of words, and although he wouldn't have admitted it, Rhemus liked this guy's spunk. He would certainly make a welcome addition to the New Imperium's science and military departments, if this went well. But for the moment, perhaps 'spunk' would need to take a second seat to a more nuanced approach to the situation, although this xenos at the very least did not appear hostile. "In that case, welcome to Arcadia. I would be happy to provide further information on the planet's current state, but my current mission requires that I make haste towards the information I am attempting to retrieve." The 'primitive' comment had not been lost on Rhemus, but he decided not to pick a fight based on absent-minded insults, especially not when the stakes were so high. Instead he gave the creature a curt nod, and gestured for his men to lower their weaponry, which they did slowly.
It did not escape his grasp, however, that Vulga practically ignored the strange creature. The small human acted in a way most inconsistent with general weak-minded humanity, but also inconsistent with that of a soldier. To move towards a tactical objective in such a leisurely fashion was the methodology of someone with nothing to fear, one that was practically never adopted by a human. Rhemus had been suspicious before, of course, but his suspicions were only mounting. Even if this figure's words had not been a lie, he had not told the whole truth, and Rhemus would need to make sure to break the truth from him later. Inter-faction conflict be damned, he would not allow one to keep a secret from the Dark Angels on a high-priority mission.
"Now, show us the data in question." Rhemus pushed Martin forward by the soldier, tired of interruptions. He had received several updates from HQ after landing, including the confirmation of Tyranid activity on the planet. It was quite possible that this data was in some way connected to the Tyranid threat, making it all the more credible and all the more vital. This also meant they would need to wrap this up as quickly as humanly possible, considering their assistance might be required in combatting this threat. The Tyranid were known for rapid and unstoppable advances, as well as stunningly complex traps and subtle preparations. An attack on Arcadia could be devastating, and losing the Golden Throne would certainly doom all of humanity.
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