Wampower

Warhammer 40,000: Indomitable Spirit

@ParadoxialToday

Warhammer 40,000: Indomitable Spirit

I'll post soonish. Trying to work more writing into my schedule.

Warhammer 40,000: Indomitable Spirit

@Ollumhammersong I made my character an officer of the PDF. Maybe our characters would know each other in some way?

Warhammer 40,000: Indomitable Spirit

Name: Anngreth Gilmarsdottir
Age: 132 Terran years old
Gender: Female
Height: 4’3”
Weight: 135 pounds

Notable Physical Features: Anngreth is a member of the abhuman race known as Squats to the rest of humanity. As a result, she only stands at a diminutive height of roughly four feet tall. But this lack of height is made up for by her intimidating stocky and muscular physique(OOC more pronounced than the picture). Her countenance is pale and drawn, but looks little different from a human woman of 30 Terran years despite her prodigious age. Thanks to the elite status of Squats within Imperial military posts, she is allowed to keep her black hair as a customary mane. Her tired sky blue eyes can speak of a thousand of battles fought in the name of Emperor and Hold. Anngreth is also an augmented veteran. Powerful bionic leg augmentations replace her lower legs, boosting her speed and allowing her to stand her ground to an even greater degree.

Mutations: A form of cancer rages within that is kept at bay by systems attached to her body and armor. Because her body is always fighting off the disease, she has strikingly pale skin and often drawn expression. This, combined with her various augmentations and other remnants of wounds, inflicts her with experience bouts of chronic pain.

Equipment and Gear: Her primary piece of equipment is her light EXO armor. It enhances her strength and resilience while also synergizing her body. Her bionic legs fit into it and it contains a plasma battery that powers her weapons as well the small machine that keeps her alive.

Prefered Weapon: Anngreth’s plasma shotgun is her primary weapon. The three barrels might seem unnecessary, but maximum damage is needed against empowered followers of chaos or raging Orks. It can fire spread shot or slugs. This Squat forged weapon doesn’t overheat as easily as the Imperium equivalents.

Apperance

Biography/History

Anngreth is a veteran of an elite regiment of the Astra Militarum that consisted only of Squats. She was a squad leader in her regiment: Bödvar’s Claws. These “All-Squat” regiments as they were called jokingly by their human allies endured campaigns and battles beyond counting against some of the most severe threats to the Imperium. Their naturally hardy character, long age, and Heavy Exo Armor gave them far greater resilience and skill than other regiments of the Astra Militarum. While the Astra Militarum is called the “Hammer of the Empire”, these Squat regiments were affectionately known as the “Jackhammer of the Empire”. Their only limiting factor was their low population. Due to this shortage of new blood and the massive amount of valuable experience held within each Squat veteran, the Adeptus Mechanicus and Squat engineers allied to create feats of augmentation. Bionic arms, legs, eyes, and even organs of the finest craftsmanship were tooled onto these Squats. At first, they rejoiced at the sight of maimed and old comrades returning to the field. But this utilitarian arrangement would ultimately fray their bond with the Empire of Man.

Morale issues began appearing during a particularly grueling, urban campaign against entrenched chaos forces on a hiveworld. Wounded Squats were hastily augmented and sent back to the field over and over again, which strained even the morale of the hardy Squats. When the commissar was out of earshot, Squats would grumble that the Imperium considered their race disposable tools and that things would be better if they abandoned their duty and returned to their Holds. Anngreth, being loyal to her oath to the Emperor, cracked down on that kind of talk at first. But as the campaign progressed at an excruciating rate, she couldn’t help but sympathize with their grumbling and question her place. She ultimately wouldn’t have to decide, however, as a series of events would later rip Bödvar’s Claws apart. Hoping to return their bodies to their pure state and overthrow their Imperial overseers, A small cult devoted to Tzeentch rose amongst the Squats that secretly conspired to intensify the the growing quarrel between the loyalists the grumbling dissenters. They succeeded in aggravating tensions to the breaking point, but were unveiled with the help of Anngreth’s squad and slaughtered to the last. Squats on both sides came together to deny the cultists their foul blessings, but with their dying breath they wrought a bloody revenge. A series of poisonous warp mines blew up across the Squat line. Simultaneously, the chaos forces counterattacked the confused Squats and drove them back. Anngreth’s lower legs were blown off by the explosion. As the Squats retreated, her squad dragged her off the line as she screamed.

After the fiasco was over, the Squat position stabilized. The Lord Commander of the planet pulled out Bödvar’s Claws from the planet and later disbanded them over Hypecia. Miraculously, Anngreth survived with bionic replacements under her knees and a metal plate in her skull from hitting the wall, but she was also infected by the explosives. Compared to some of her comrades, she was almost fortunate to only contract cancer. A device implanted in her back keeps it under control, as well as several augmented organs. The irony of being kept alive by the science that led to her regiment’s downfall isn’t lost on her and she holds a confused grudge against the Adeptus Mechanicus to this day.After being discharged, most of her shattered regiment went back to their Holds on the various homeworlds, as most, even the loyalists, lost their taste for Imperial service. The rest went to serve in untainted regiments of Squats elsewhere in the Imperium. As before, she was split between the lingering loyalty she felt to the Imperium and her people. Seeing the corruption and violence inherent on the eastern frontier of the Imperium, she decided she could do both to some extent.

Despite the local prejudice against her size, she enlisted Valerion's Planetary Defense force years and years ago and has since risen through the ranks to become a Lieutenant of the PDF. Even though she continues to be a part of the Imperium, bitterness over the past and seeing the Imperium at the ground level has deepened her cynicism towards it. The chronic pain she experiences from her cancer has made her an especially prolific drinker and hasn’t lightened her mood. And the current collapse of the city feels like a rendition of her darkest memories and nightmares. After failing to stop the cultists from blowing the reactor, she’s done her best to use what remains of her men to get civilians to the Indomitable Spirit.

Warhammer 40,000: Indomitable Spirit

@Paradoxial Looks good, though your picture is messed up on my end

Warhammer 40,000: Indomitable Spirit

I'll probably finish my sheet tomorrow!

Warhammer 40,000: Indomitable Spirit

I should have my sheet in by then. Looking forward to this!

Fallout: A World Set on Fire

Atom's Avengers

Sheet

Location(s): They’ve set up in Springvale and Megaton, which they’ve fortified into mostly self sufficient missionary compounds. Most of the civilians and those without Atom’s Blessing to be ghoulified or resistant to radiation live in Springvale, while those most devoted and mutated in Atom’s worship live in a worship complex built on and around the Megaton crater.

History: After the bomb was detonated at Megaton, it seemed that the Children of Atom would be resigned to particularly quirky chapter of the Capital Wasteland’s unhappy history, ironically erased by their own object of veneration. But this only marked a new, bloodier chapter in the cult’s history.

Months before the Lone Wanderer annihilated Megaton, Confessor Cromwell sent a group of missionaries outside the Capital Wasteland to the Baltimore area to convert other Wastelanders. He felt the Capital Wasteland was too violent to be fertile ground for further conversion. Baltimore wasn’t much better, but the embattled missionaries survived under the leadership of one Brother Michael. By way of gun and aiding locals, they formed a small mission on the outskirts of Baltimore near a settlement. These methods were unpopular with most of his fellow missionaries, who were used to the peaceful life in Megaton, but they couldn’t help but agree with the results when they threw back their first major raider assault they faced with only light casualties. Over time, the priestly group learned the wasteland and hardened into a new breed of warrior monks. They survived and thrived, converting many to the worship of Atom.

The news of the detonation of the bomb in Megaton shocked them. Brother Michael led a group of the remaining original missionaries and some of the most loyal converts to see what had happened. Upon seeing the destruction to human life and one of Atom’s sacred artifacts, Brother Michael collapsed to his knees and declared a crusade against the demons who had slaughtered so many. In that moment, a cheery ghoulified survivor jumped up to greet her visitors.They almost shot her, but she claimed to know the “meanie” who blew up the town: the Lone Wanderer. In that moment, Brother Michael and all others present gained a new purpose to avenge Megaton. The psychology of the organization fundamentally shifted further down the extreme track it had been on.

Upon their return to their mission with the ghoul in hand, Brother Michael declared a new order within the Children of Atom. They would now be known as Atom’s Avengers and preparations would begin to return to the Capital Wasteland to hunt down the Lone Wanderer and reclaim their holy land. After a year of unsuccessful hunting parties and preparations, they finally moved back to the Capital Wasteland. Anyone who dared to challenge them was scoured from the Earth. Now, after having set up a fortified mission settlement in Springvale and a temple in Megaton, parties of Avengers scour the Capital Wasteland for the Lone Wanderer, converts, and valuable objects particularly blessed by Atom. While still small in number, many flock to their ruthless banner for their protection in these troubled times.

Fallout: A World Set on Fire

I’m going to hold the Children of Atom for now, but if some one else wanted to do them we could work something out. I’m open to an original faction @Cifeiron

War Never Changes

In the murky waters of Far Harbor...

“It doesn’t look like much, does it?”

“Trust me cap’n, them Commonwealth crates will be in port. Jackson saw the same ship back in Salem. Pennsylvanian trade touches even tiny places like Far Harbor.”

She lowered the ‘scope she’d been looking through. “I believe you, Levi. Get on dock ahead of Locke’s boys and commandeer the vessel.” Her face twisted into a sour expression as she once more drew on her old rage. “The Quaker cargo is our rightful take and I don’t want them interfering.”

He nodded as he always did. “Aye, Sarah”

The last conversation he’d had with Sarah fluttered through his mind as he glided through the cold murky water towards the Far Harbor docks. Of course, only he was allowed to call her by her actual name. It was only on account of him being her First Mate and last friend from the old days. Most men could only refer to her as “Captain”, “Captain Clarke”, and she would allow them to whisper the infamous title “Green Widow”. She wasn’t one for theatrics, but she knew the use in letting legends grow. He was usually called First Mate Bradshaw, and he couldn’t help but like his moniker: “The Bearded Ghoul”. A lifetime ago, he had to shave all the time. Now, his sturdy, braided, and grey beard stuck with him through his mutation.

Though it was what once cursed him, the radioactive water now strengthened his desiccated body. It also soothed the painful patches of skin that sometimes regrew on his cancerous body, only to fizzle with pain on his brownish flesh. With powerful and skilled strokes, he pushed silently forward through the water to the dock. Five of his best men followed his lead through the harbor. As they rapidly approached the dark shape they knew to be the dock, a glowing shark passed under him. The light it gave off revealed the savaged flesh of the beast, hinting towards much larger creatures lurking in the depths of the brooding and diseased sea. It was deep enough to not raise the alarm, but it was a sign that Locke was moving quicker than they had figured earlier.

When they reached the dock, his men and him all swam to different points around the dock. He quietly pulled himself out of the water for a quick peek before swiftly getting down. Three Harborguards were lazing around, sitting on boxes playing a card game and occasionally glancing up at their surroundings when they fancied it. There was little moonlight tonight, so the senseless guards used their lanterns to illuminate their cards. Despite their relaxation, it would be hard to kill all the guards silently with them in a circle. And the dock was a tiny thing, near enough to the town that if the alarm was raised or an attack was detected a horde of armed fishermen would come running. They had to be quick. He made a specific series of tiny, nearly imperceptible, splashs to signal his men to go ahead. He almost felt sorry for the boys on guard as three near-skeletal beings rose silently up from the water, clutching wicked knives and silenced junk pistols. The guard stood no chance as the ghouls dashed to their prey, faster than the men could process the strange shadows they saw behind each other in the hazy lamplight. All at once, bony hands covered their mouths and unceremoniously slit their throats. The lamps were snuffed out. While the three ghouls clutched at their prey as it died to keep it quiet, he and the two others wasted no time.

He rose from the water and dashed to the Commonwealth ship. The wooden steamship was conspicuous amongst the ramshackle vessels used by the desperate locals. As he watched, his other two men skillfully scaled the ship and took care of the one guard on the boat and went to the crew cabins to exact a bloody toll there. He boarded the gang plank and went to the captain’s quarters, assuming that the ship layout would be the same as other vessels of this type they’d raided. It was, but the captain was nowhere to be seen. Probably in the local tavern sleeping off his drunkenness or balls deep in a serving wench. The Quakers abroad were like that, abandoning their precious biblical code the second they were away from their homeland.

Just then, the faint sound of a foghorn went off with a long wailing cry. He cursed under his breath. Mordred Locke was coming with his all-out attack and if they didn’t move quickly they’d be caught up in the chaos. He ran down to the cargo bay and it was just as they expected. The ship had come in late and the captain had decided to put off unloading their cargo. The captain and half the crew was probably asleep in the local tavern. He went up to driving cabin to see if he could start the vessel. The steam engine would take more time to start, of course, but he needed to see if the captain was as stupid as he suspected and left the key in the cabin. After sifting through drawers, he found the keys. The next minutes were occupied with the ghouls flying around the ship, getting it ready to sail. Despite the steam engine remaining hot from its prior voyage, it was in no condition to leave immediately. Rather, they’d have to take advantage of the wind and tide and the engine would kick in at some point. Risky balances of oil soaked coal were being tossed into the engine to make it start quicker, but any riskier and they would explode. Soon enough, a favorable wind and somewhat favorable tide came. They all thanked their choice of drowned deity and started to depart.

It looked as though they would get away scot-free in perhaps one of their most triumphant raids yet. Then, as he and one of his crew went to lift the gangplank, there was what sounded like a mighty explosion. The shoulder of the man next to him shattered into bone fragments and blood and he dove behind cover. His first thought was that it was the engine going off, but he soon realized it was a Harborman on the dock wielding a lever action, firing high at the crew. And he started shouting.

“Mainlander pirates are coming to take wha-Ahh!”

He didn’t finish his sentence before Bradshaw lifted his silenced bolt action pistol, aimed, and fired. He could tell his shot merely wounded the bearded man (OOC: Allen Lee). The two others on deck hissed and fired as well, but the man had taken cover. He spared no time for the injured man as he had to move and one of the others would see to him, but he felt the man would live with an arm replacement. They pushed the boat off and sailed away from the impending struggle. They had put the town on alert and Locke would be none too happy about it, but from his view it mattered little. The eerie glowing fleet was already nearing the sleepy town of Far Harbor, he could see the mutant horde crowded on the decks as they passed by, ravaged faces of ghoulish pirates and other mutants twisted into grins. They showed the proper hand signals and weren’t blown out of the water or harpooned. As they passed by numerous ships, speed boats, and skiffs with their prize already won, he felt the rush of victory that sustained him through all the years. He twisted the wheel and guided the stolen ship towards the dark flotilla on the shadowed horizon as the blazing glow was left behind them in Far Harbor.