The Push

The immediate area outside Naris Capitol city
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DeMarchese
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Postby DeMarchese » Tue Mar 13, 2018 12:41 pm

*Disclaimer: First of all, welcome to this adventure and thank you for playing it. Before we start, there's a few rules and friendly reminders I wish to point out. Regarding player interaction and dialogue, please remain at all times civil and allow other people to perform their own actions or have a chance to be part of in-character conversations. When the group is facing a combat situation, it will be the role of the commander to give orders to his/her crew and players are expected to act in an orderly fashion, posting their actions following the order in which the commander issued them. Lastly, as any other vehicle crew, there are several positions to fill (a minimum of five and a maximum of seven) that the players must fill in order to operate the vehicle. These positions are: commander, driver, main gunner, secondary gunner, loader and two optional auxiliary gunners or a dedicated mechanicum priest.
You are expected to discuss in a mature and civil manner how to distribute these roles between yourselves using the appropriate #Discord channels before the adventure begins.

Enjoy.

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DeMarchese
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Postby DeMarchese » Wed Mar 14, 2018 12:17 pm

EPISODE 1: WHAT A GIFT

Outpost Mercuria lies to the east and slightly north of Naris, overlooking the eastern approach. Built into the remnants of an old shrine to one of the forgotten local saints, Mercuria rarely sees much in the way of anything of importance. Due to the less-travelled nature of the eastern road and the utter lack of anything occurring, Mercuria only warrants a paired posting. Frequently the posting of choice for whoever’s fallen out of favour with higher-ups and are wanted out of someone’s hair, where they can do no harm.

This time however, things are different.

Whether you volunteered at the request of your superior officer, simply ordered to or dragged here in chains with a laspistol pressed against your head at all times, you now form part of the imperial guardsmen that have gathered in numbers. Confusion and ignorance reigns in the camp, with wild speculation running unchecked among the troops.
You are the last to arrive, but by the looks of the ragged and soaked tents hastily mounted around the shrine others have been here longer. Piles of crates with military supplies and barrels of promethium litter the landscape, barely illuminated by a dim orange-like light coming from the rising sun in a typical narisian morning. Grim-faced probosts of the commissariat help you and other guardsmen to dismount from the trucks you came during night. No one dares to speak so far, the bulky and menacing shotguns of the probosts being all the necessary statement to keep the discipline.

The temporary camp, along with a heavy presence of commissariat personnel and the sudden nightly trip from the garrison to this remote post is all you need to know that something big is about to happen... and secrecy has been so far flawless.

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Commissar Cat
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Postby Commissar Cat » Fri Mar 23, 2018 7:47 pm

Amidst the confusion and chatter was a small pocket of silence, the source not immediately apparent. Though an assessing glance would spot the telltale black and red uniform, scarcely visible between the comings and goings of others.

That wasn't to say Lewis Cathery wasn't confused, or had any more idea why folk were gathered than anyone else. He simply remained still, his face thoughtful, and anyone in the Astra Militarum will tell you, when commissars start to think, guardsmen get worried.

All of a mighty five feet tall, after boots, with blond hair, blue eyes behind spectacles and his hands neatly clasped together, Cathery would possibly have appeared more at home as a schola librarian, than as an officer.
But the Emperor calls men to their vocation as he sees fit to do, and Lewis had, metaphorically, no issue rising to the occasion.

The lack of information didn't concern the commissar, all that mattered was that he and his men be ready once any information was presented. With a calm but pleasant expression, he was content to wait.

(( Meet my one-shot (pun unintended) Lewis, the world's shortest bolter boye: http://www.peachpunk.com/forum/viewtopi ... 906#p15906 ))
Last edited by Commissar Cat on Thu Mar 29, 2018 12:23 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Warsmith Wolf
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Postby Warsmith Wolf » Sun Mar 25, 2018 2:51 pm

It's not uncommon for tank crews to be forcefully parted with their tank in combat, as many such crews on Naris have already learned thanks to the blueskin menace, but for most of them they can somewhat easily fit into a new combat role as infantrymen. Gunners have the aim to be decent heavy weapons crews, the driver has the technical know-how to fit right in at the workshop, and the commander - being used to shouting at people - makes for an ideal NCO or vox operator.

Where, then, does the loader go?

Guardsman Angharad ab Gwythur knew two things: how to keep a tank's logistical needs met with fresh fuel and restocked ammo, and how to lift a 120mm shell into a breech as quickly as possible. The Guard had chosen to employ her skills as such ever since Black Cat II had been knocked out, which is to say she was a worker and little else. If someone needed heavy lifting or quick inventory checking done around the workshop, 'Guardsman' Gwythur would be there (willing or otherwise) to assist, quietly coming to accept their new life as a glorified handyman.

Then a bunch of Commissariat provosts had told her she was needed for something, and one rain-sodden truck ride through the night later, here she was.

'Here' was Outpost Mercuria, naturally. Guardsman Gwythur leapt down from the truck with undisguised relief, eager to stretch her limbs after the long night's ride - she was used to rain, but the ride made even a Russ feel comfortable. Rolling her shoulders, the ex-loader took notice of a rather diminutive lad standing next to her, and - taking his outfit to be of the scholarly, knows-why-we're-up-so-frakking-early type, gave him a nudge with her elbow and a conspiratorial whisper.

"Oi, dwtty. Any idea what this is all about?"

-----

viewtopic.php?f=8&t=38&p=15905#p15905
Ferrum honore veniat.


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Fates End
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Postby Fates End » Sun Mar 25, 2018 7:13 pm

A drab, dull looking figure hopped down out of one of the trucks, hefting the heavy charge pack on his back that went along with the hellgun in his right hand. The figure wore the recognizable skull-emblazoned helmet and mask of a Grenadier from the Death Korps, and glanced around through darkened lens as the rain pattered down along his chemically treated greatcoat.

His fellows weren't here. He was alone, for the first time in weeks. Alone in a sea of other Guardsmen.

But orders were orders. And the Grenadier was here, as ordered. With no specific directives, he stomped forward and out of the way, standing clear of the lanes of traffic and to the side of one of the trucks. Waiting for orders, for the reason they were all here.

((A Krieger has arrived. ))
"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement."

(Fates now has too many characters to link easily. Thus follow this handy link to my character thread and go wild.

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Commissar Cat
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Postby Commissar Cat » Sun Mar 25, 2018 7:55 pm

The loader's elbow met with a light clank of metal, as the nudge bounced off a cuirass beneath a greatcoat, and Cathery turned his head, raising his gaze to regard Gwyther. Patting the elbow lightly with a gloved hand, back to whence it came, he murmured, "They haven't told me a thing. Expect they will, in due time. You know, once we're all suitably bored, or dead from old age." he gave a wan smile.

Observing the grenadier's approach, the pale commissar drew his mouth into a thin frown, "Never a sign of an easy day when they call in the meat-shields, though." as the drizzle formed small channels down the peak of his cap, Lewis watched them drip away, a visual reminder of time passing, and time wasted standing in musters such as this.

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Riveris
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Postby Riveris » Mon Mar 26, 2018 12:54 am

wilfred had a small warm smile on his face as his heavy carapace boots stepped into the moist ground. Sinking slightly. Coming back from a perimeter patrol His grey heavy carapace armor plates clinking ageist a shirt of mail underneath visible in the joints. The identifying 525 in crimson on the left shoulder plate. the other side the emblem of his old company. the head of an brown equine creature with a chitinous plate along the flat end of its head. curving just a little bit at the bottom of its nose. His helm taken off to help him cool off was hanging at his hip. His face sweating hair matted. A build up of salt around his right eye. His heavy stubber attached to the armor with straps and connecting clips for stable firing. his pack. jingling and moving as he walked up the hill. Towards the camp.

Seeing the truck of new comers and the tanker girl hop out. He brought his pace up a little bit. Seeing her talk to the smaller lad in the hood he smiled as he hailed them. a gloved hand raised up. "Morn'en" he called out. To the two a he allowed himself to stop just short of them.

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LaxKnight
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Postby LaxKnight » Mon Mar 26, 2018 9:21 am

Raydinia never liked the rain, even if it was normal instead of acid. She didn't like feeling unwillingly wet, it reduced the effectiveness of everything such as sight and moving, and it made everything start to rust. She thanked the Omnissiah that it was only drizzling and not something heavier. What a day to be sent out to assist the Guard.

The truck stopped and the few others with her got out before she did but unlike them the Commissars didn't heckle or conjole her to exit with speed; she was a Executive Enginseer of the Mechanicus and they knew better than to mess with one of the Omnissiah's adepts. She got off the truck, the vehicle noticeably lifting a little higher, and then turned to it one last time. "Take care, Jeffrey. Stay out of trouble now," she smiled warmly and gave the machine a loving few pats before it drove away. She watched it go for a little bit, like a mother watching her child go to school, before she turned to the congregation and joined them.

Raydinia still wasn't told what was going on and that, coupled with the drizzle, mildly annoyed her. Patience was a virtue but she had much more important things to do than rust away in the rain. Her children, the vehicles, needed her. She found herself amongst a few other Guardsmen and a Commissar, a clear frown on the pale blonde's face. "I pray that this detestable drizzle ends shortly before whatever brings us here today," her voice had a almost unnoticeable vox warble ad she spoke to noone in particular.

(Here is my (possibly) one shoot )
Apparently, I made too many characters. Here they are:



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DeMarchese
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Postby DeMarchese » Wed Mar 28, 2018 10:24 am


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Fates End
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Postby Fates End » Thu Mar 29, 2018 12:07 am

(( Rolled a 0 for clever check, -1 from malus and +2 from his stat for a total of 1))

The Grenadier stood, scanning the crowd and taking note of the three figures. If their presence caused any sort of reaction was difficult to say, however. He didn't move, awaiting orders or sufficient reason to vacate his chosen location.
"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement."

(Fates now has too many characters to link easily. Thus follow this handy link to my character thread and go wild.

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LaxKnight
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Postby LaxKnight » Thu Mar 29, 2018 1:07 am

[[Not going to do a description since I'm not sure what they are for.]]

[[First Clever roll, characteristic +3 incorporated in roll.]]

[[Total Result: 6]]

[[Second Clever roll, characteristic +3 with -1 penalty resulting in +2 overall, incorporated in roll.]]

[[Total Result: 2]]
Last edited by LaxKnight on Thu Mar 29, 2018 8:12 am, edited 1 time in total.
Apparently, I made too many characters. Here they are:



Riveris
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Postby Riveris » Thu Mar 29, 2018 1:18 am

(Got a 2 on the clever check. also gonna play it safe)

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Commissar Cat
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Postby Commissar Cat » Thu Mar 29, 2018 5:35 am

Lewis noticed the trio emerge, and hid his displeasure at potentially having to deal with a commissar, never mind one who seemed to be cut from such a different cloth than his own.
Nudging Gwyther gently, Cathery turned to face the three arrivals, and saluted neatly, but silently. They were after all, busy talking.

(( First clever roll: -1 plus Clever 2 = 1
Second roll: 0 plus Clever 2, plus situation bonus = 3 ))

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Richard
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Postby Richard » Thu Mar 29, 2018 10:50 pm

Corporal Farkas cursed under his breath as he stumbled out of the truck he had been sleeping in.

It had all been going so well.

Three adjutants bribed and on Farkas' payroll. One tech-priest who looked the other way so long as Farkas kept feeding him trinkets and parts. Assigned to the laziest officer on base, running errands for a shadowy admin clerk he'd just up and invented... Farkas had been skating, and skating like the best of them. He might have actually made it out of this absurd, unnecessary, inconvenient war, all the way to the end, coming out holding on to a profit, maybe even a discharge. Hey, dream big.

But the universe hates a good system. Carefully cultivated methods of self preservation and, yes, the reduction of stress and work in Farkas' life had all fallen apart, just because Farkas had thought; let me indulge myself this one time. So he'd brought a working girl, his favorite, the one he'd seen last week, out to the motor pool and gotten the two of them in the back of his favorite, and usually abandoned, truck. She had very charmingly offered a bottle of amasec for them to share, and that was it. Light's out, jenny's special, she puts him under with whatever's in the bottle, and now here he is. A guy who just wanted to be in dereliction of duty for a short afternoon romp, now suddenly asleep in a truck outbound on some kind of secret combat mission, the kind where you are actually shot at.

It had been going so well, and now he'd be dead before the afternoon was out, probably eaten or some other grox-shit.

Farkas blinked away the chemically induced fog from his eyes and looked around, mirroring the confusion of the other grunts, trying to look like he had somewhere to be. His brain did backflips as he tried to figure the best way to extract himself, when he suddenly turned a corner to find a trio of three very important looking figures, and a squad of chumps gathered around them.

Farkas saw the Commissar hat, and froze. No. Worst case scenario. This is it.

The wolftime.

They were going to give him orders.

He thought he might cry, or vomit. He hadn't decided yet.

(Clever roll of a 2)

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DeMarchese
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Postby DeMarchese » Fri Mar 30, 2018 7:49 am


Riveris
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Postby Riveris » Fri Mar 30, 2018 8:29 am

After taking his moment to read the situation he quickly put his helm on. clicking it into place. Resperating breaths threw the dust filters on his helm was calming to him. Taking amoment to stand at attintion. he unlatched the Stubber and held its barrel in his left hand and had it facing straight up. Looking straight forward. His heels clicking together as he swung his right one into his left. Just like he was drilled. his free arm straight at his side. Until he would be passed then he would put his right hand into a fist and place it over the center of his chest. His respirators the only sound he was making. He prayed to vulkan to ask the emperor that the commissar not notice him. And that the noble was actually half decent.

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Richard
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Postby Richard » Fri Mar 30, 2018 11:24 am

Farkas immediately dips into the crowd, trying to quell his panic. He steals another glance at the weird trio, carefully avoiding eye contact with the Commissar. The long list of curses in his head reach critical mass as he tries to find an escape option and comes up with nothing. Stuck in the middle of the column, his best bet is anonymity, for now. Shut up, head down, stay out of trouble.

He needed to start building connections, contacts, patsies. His eyes darted around the formation for a likely mark. Damn. Everyone's so damn serious! Well, trust to fate. Farkas turned to the guy next to him. "Wilfred," his dog tags read. No expression under the gasmask. He could tell the guy was also trying to avoid the glare of the Hangman prowling around behind them. Good. Smart. Could be useful.

Farkas gestured at Wilfred's gas mask.

"So, I guess you don't smoke," he said, "But do you chew?"

Farkas offered him a generous scoop of chewing lho, with a grin on his face.

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Commissar Cat
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Postby Commissar Cat » Fri Mar 30, 2018 12:07 pm

For whatever reason, either because he was a late arrival, or his small stature had him mistaken as a cadet, Commissar Cathery found himself roughly herded with the others and afforded no more respect, despite his rank. The treatment irritated him, but not as much as the aimless meandering around waiting for orders.
His patience was well and truly being tested this day, thankfully he still had some to spare.

Taking shelter from the misting rain in the shade of one of the taller members of the group, Lewis lit up a smoke and watched the trio on the steps.
"One lesser-spotted Commissar Trotfenn." he exhaled his faintly blue smoke, clueing in anyone in the squad who had missed who the beast before them was.
Speaking a little more audibly, "Whatever you do; don't." he supplemented, "Whatever you were thinking about doing; don't."

Falling silent once more, the young commissar enjoyed the brief respite that Lho could afford him whilst nobody was prepared to move. The smoke hung idly in the damp air, about as motivated as anyone nearby.

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Riveris
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Postby Riveris » Fri Mar 30, 2018 12:35 pm

Wilfred let out a warm chuckle. his resporator making shaking sounds as he did so. turning to the man who offered him some chewing Iho. he reached into his back pocket and held up a few sticks. "Occasionally smoke. Not to often. Chewing gives ya ork teeth." he said with a warm smile. "But Id be happy to trade a few sticks for a few gobs. Be good for a trade though." He could tell the man was a bit shaken. He held his hand out to him sticks in hand. "s'ids. I hate the after tastes" he shrugged. "Whats your name mate?" cocking his head to the side

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Fates End
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Postby Fates End » Sat Mar 31, 2018 2:04 am

It might have caused some concern amongst the Provosts to push a soldier of Krieg into an orderly fashion. Indeed, Krieg and "orderly fashion" were in many ways synonymous. But he was jostled into position with surprising ease, giving no comment to being called Cattle, nor any true response at all aside from steady movement.

Within the group he immediately slid into position in front of the short Commissar, offering the officer some measure of protection from the elements via his own taller form. And then----

And then nothing. He waited. Taking in the Commissar's words without truly understanding their meaning. He suspected that his Watchmaster might have had some thoughts on the matter of the other officers' identities. Or that December might have. But he hadn't a clue. The rest of the order orders were puzzling, to be sure. But he gave those little mind. It would be almost impossible to "not" do what he was planning. As that consisted of---standing in the rain and waiting for orders.

Although on second consideration. Perhaps the shorter Commissar was instructing him to pay little heed to the conspicuous contraband exchange happening within their small band. And that . . . yes, that made sense after a fashion. Such contraband was of little concern to Nines, and currently didn't impede his fellow's abilities to perform their duties, whatever those might be. So of course he would not raise a fuss.

For the moment, the only sounds emanating from him were the slight rustles of gear and chemical treated greatcoat, and the steady in and out breathing through his gasmask. Elsewise, for all intents and purposes. He was a skull-faced statue.
"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement."

(Fates now has too many characters to link easily. Thus follow this handy link to my character thread and go wild.


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