Operation Hallifax: Prologue

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Warmaster Death, Sep 27, 2009.

  1. It is the 41st Millenium

    For more than a hundred centuries
    the Emperor has sat immobile
    on the Golden Throne of Earth. He
    is the master of mankind by the
    will of the gods, and master of a
    million worlds by the might of his
    inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting
    carcass writhing invisibly with power
    from the Dark Age of Technology.
    He is the Carrion Lord of the
    Imperium for whom a thousand souls
    are sacrificed every day, so that he
    may never truly die.

    Yet even in his deathless state, the
    Emperor continues his eternal vigilance.
    Mighty battlefleets cross the daemoninfested
    miasma of the warp, the only
    route between distant stars, their way
    lit by the Astronomican, the psychic
    manifestation of the Emperor's will.
    Vast armies give battle in his name on
    uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst
    his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes,
    the Space Marines, bio-engineered
    super-warriors. Their comrades in arms
    are legion: the Imperial Guard and
    countless planetary defence forces, the
    ever-vigilant Inquisition and the techpriests
    of the Adeptus Mechanicus to
    name only a few. But for all their
    multitudes, they are barely enough to
    hold off the ever-present threat from
    aliens, heretics, mutants - and worse.

    To be a man in such times is to be
    one amongst untold billions. It is to
    live in the cruellest and most bloody
    regime imaginable. These are the tales
    of those times. Forget the power of
    technology and science, for so much
    has been forgotten, never to be relearned.
    Forget the promise of progress
    and understanding, for in the grim
    dark future there is only war. There
    is no peace amongst the stars, only an
    eternity of carnage and slaughter, and
    the laughter of thirsting gods.

    The Lighter, Sequestered from the Imperial Navy Cruiser Hand of Wrath
    The Enterior of the Lighter is spartan, with most of the space usually filled with either Navy Ratings or Imperial Guard Troopers empty save for your small group, clustered, along with your belongings at the rear end of the lighter, you have spent the better part of a month with your fellow acolytes, though in that time you did not truely get to know them all that well, their quirks and habits are, if you deigned to pay any attention to them, known to you, as is the appearence of your fellows, though whilst you are all aware of each other's former career paths, just how skilled or trained they are remains vague, though you assure yourself that having been handpicked by the Inquistior for training, surely they know their crafts, whether it be the Imperial Guard's aptitude for combat and tactics or the Administratum Adept's skill with data and research.

    One question gnaws at the back of your mind, being the reason for your being assigned to this mission.
    In his breifing, Inquisitor Van Yastobaal's tone suggested that he was not fully confident in your ability to handle this task, even to the point where he subtly hesitated before admitting you all into the breifing chamber, but the dire need for the matter to be resolved and the fact that yours was the closest group of acolytes by a matter of two months travel force his hand.

    But Brief you he did, you know that Sepheris Secundus is of vital economic importance to the sector, you know that some foul rebillion sprung up and that it required a regiment of the Imperial Guard to put down.
    The Inquisitor also mentioned that the fighting was heaviest and the casualites highest in the Gorgonid Mines, and that reports from that particular action report hellish creatures and other 'madness' filtered back, soon reaching the ears of the Inquisition.

    Thus it came to be that your band of Recruits, once bound for the Inqusition Training complexes on Scintillia, were sent to the Gorgonid mines. the Lighter
    decends slowly at first, the Cruiser slowly dwindling from a behemoth that consumes all the space outside the portholes to a small silhouette in the sky.

    Swathed in the Crimson Robes of an Mech-Wright of the Mechanicus, Cain Jericus, known as "Crisis" to the Skirarii of the Mechanicus Vessel Purity of Logic for his desire to participate in combat drills and his habit of making important decisions quickly, but with less compassionless arrogance than the other Tech-Preists on board the vessel, shifted his position quietly, the Tattoo's that were etched in unperceptable patterns across the left side of his face pulsed weakly, the Tech-Preist sat in what could be called a light sleep, for he knew that all too soon the decent would be over, and their trial by fire would begin, though around him, the others held conversations over the rythmic hum of the lighter's engines.

    OOC: Okay my fellow Acolytes, its 'getting to know you' conversation time, though remember, you have a basic knowledge of each others habits and personality quirks already this is jsut whether or not you get along with each other, that sort of thing.
    to look at it another way, this is where you all get used to each other's characters as you play your own, 'coz pretty soon your not gonna have that much time to 'shoot the breeze'

  2. Ya, that could work.

    What if she lamented the date she sent Seth to war: the day that changed everything between them. Seth wouldnt understand it at first but it could open up a door should she finally share it or he overhear it. If you don't like this one, I'm totally okay with the anniversary of the King's death again.
  3. Good Afternoon~ Not sure if I will post tonight. But I am online.
  4. As the Lighter descended, Cain opened one eye to regard the Psyker and the Arbitrator, the pupil of the eye was a strange beige colour
    "My comrades, in the name of the Omnissiah and the Emperor cease your bickering" he chided softly, his voice, though human, carried a slight mechanical undertone.

    "Ah, listen to the hymn of the engines, we will be landing very soon" The Mech-Wright now had both eyes open, and the electoo's on his face pulsed more energeticly, each pulse in time to Cain's beating heart as he Drew his Laspistol, inspecting the weapon and intoning several blessings as he did so.

    The internal vox system crackles as it comes to life
    "Gentlemen, this is the Pilot, touchdown at Gorgonid outpost in five minutes" the Pilot's voice is tense but professional, and his announcement comes with an unspoken warning 'get in your seats and buckle up'
  5. A sudden, almost gentle bucking rocks the Transport bay, indicating that the Lighter has touched down, a fact that the pilot wastes no time confirming, a hint of releif almost coming through his wuick statement, though the hiss of the pnumatics of the large rear door of the Lighter opening and lowering itself to the greyish brown scene that for all intents and purposes would look like any other city on the planet, were it not for the fact that almost all the buildings and habs are either half ruined or piles of rubble, though al around you is a sea of tents, though you attention is drawn to the heavy pounding footsteps of an armored sentinal, the whirring of it's hydraulics between each step shattering the quiet.

    behind the sentinal you notice seveal burnt out wrecks, once civilian cars and even a Chimera APC, litter the camp, their presence made even more noticeable by the fact that some of the tents have been modified to join with the structures, the APC in particular turned into an open area between several tents by enterprising guardsmen.

    The Soldiers that fill the camp shuffle about with the look of Victors haunted by a gruelling and savage campaign, the men and women before you, all clad in the Ash grey Fatigues of the 97th Battalion, many have Bandages, sligns or other indicators of battle wounds, though all are covered with a sooty grime that makes seems to enshroud their faces and uniforms, making distinguishing rank or other distinguishing marks difficult if not impossible.

    Beyond the Camp, in the distance, you see a mountain range covered with the signs of heavy industry, smoke stacks and other buildings seem to belch thick chains of smoke into the sky, which seems to always be a sickly grey-black

    In the centre of this sea of tents, craters and wrecks stands a rust red hab building, the Golden Aquila of the Imperium proudly emblazoned on the only intact structure within the camp.

    GM: Alright Acolytes, this is Sepherus Secondus, the camp of the 97th Battalion, 2nd Albrechtian Infantry Regiment.

    what you do next is up to you.
  6. It was a good post. I don't think Deoxys would want to join Team Mason though.
  7. Lancer Romulus looks terrifying:


    I like his hat.
  8. If it looks like this, then it's the Dark Brotherhood symbol.

    Show Spoiler
  9. I'll reply tomorrow morning.
  10. Lmfaoo!!!!! XD
  11. I remember when we did Macbeth last year in my English class.

    Shit was metal as fuck.
  12. "No, it's good to be cautious."
  13. We talk about whatever we want on this thread, from discussions about music to anything we really want to talk about with each other.
  14. Here will be contests posted my me or another owner such as a playlist and guessing the theme of the playlist.
  15. Lucius fought off the urge to laugh. "Just a century"
  16. Astorath smiled. "Here take your sister."

    Lucius picked up the Melody and smiled. "Hi Mel-Mel," Lucius whispered as he walked away.
  17. Posted, but that probably be it for today. Hmm..
  18. Here guys

    have your daily dose of feels

  19. "And I'm sorry." He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips.