Active Plot Thread - Payback's a Botch

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Commissar Cat
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Postby Commissar Cat » Fri Apr 19, 2019 6:27 pm

As most guard would be long accustomed to, muster had been called heinously early. The sky still a deep blue-grey, with a small ration of sunlight diluting the dawn. Whilst the morning weather was at least forgiving, it wasn't clear how long it would hold.

A lone figure stood guarding the doorway of the command tent, pacing around uncomfortably whilst waiting for the arrival of troops. From the height alone they could only be one of two Commissars. From the apparent social-awareness regarding those in the tent, they could only be Yorke.

The reason for the officer's pacing would be immediately apparent to anyone in possession of ears. From inside the command tent came the loud bickering of an argument that showed no signs of ceasing any time soon. A young, raised voice that paused only to occasionally cough, and a much deeper, quieter, practiced snarl.

Two. Hours. The commissar winced silently as guard began to approach, pinching the bridge of his nose. They've been arguing. For two. Hours.
Coming to a halt in front of the tent entrance, the commissar silently greeted those gathering before it.

After a few.moments, with a disgusted and deeply frustrated sigh, a red-faced Lieutenant Brinton stormed his way out of the doorway, knocking Yorke forward towards the assembled crowd.
There was a brief spark of confusion from both officers, and for a moment, the very start of an apology formed on Brinton's lips before he caught sight of the waiting group before them.

"Ah. Good. Less than I'd hoped for, but certainly a promising start." the noble composed himself.
"As we all know, it's been three weeks since that dreadful business at the gate, and-" he paused for a moment to scan the group for any faces he recognised from the day. Less than he'd hoped to see return.
"-it's about time we sent a message back to those blue bastards." he finished with an unusually grim expression.

Yorke nodded, and covering as the lieutenant coughed into a handkerchief, expanded on the statement, "We have news that one of the rebel camps involved in the push against our wall has yet to fully withdraw, they remain posted in the no man's land between Naris central and Tau-occupied zones. Whatever keeps them there, we are going to make sure that they don't get back to their borders."

((Welcome to the current EO Plot - Payback's a Botch - as Richard is currently unable to GM, I'm your friendly neighborhood stand-in.
This plot takes place about 2-3 weeks after The Wall.
Characters severely injured in the Wall may struggle with the physical tasks at hand.

The ideal player characters to use in this thread:
[Imperial Guard only]
Lower rank than Lieutenant - Junior Commissar is fine))

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Hobbsy
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Postby Hobbsy » Fri Apr 19, 2019 9:05 pm

Out of the low light of the morning, a towering shadow appeared in the distant. As the figure approached the low light revealed the blue coat, black beard, dreadlocks and jolly smile which could only be Corporal Paxton Morov. And why wouldn't he be smiling? Today was a good day.

As he drew near to the tent the Valhallan gave a silence salute to the Commissar, noting the argument still ragging with the structure. With a wink to the exasperated Cat, he took up an at ease stance as he waited for more to arrive and the bickering to end. After some time, both had come to past and one lieutenant Brinton stepped out to breath them.

Yes, today was the day. The day he had waited for too long for now. Today, he would end Brinton's life. Paxton had survived long enough in the guard to know that a stray shot or accident can happen in the thick of combat. He had lost everything that mattered, so there was nothing left of value to loss. Even if this was the end for himself, he would have his vengeance. Their vengeance...

Corporal Morov smiled, and why wouldn't he? Today was a good day.
//

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LaxKnight
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Postby LaxKnight » Fri Apr 19, 2019 11:15 pm

Few people looked upon penal legionnaires favorably and it was no secret the Unseen Sons were likely hated more than most. No one likes a winner after all. However, what happened a few weeks ago was beyond shameful. Traitors using their uniforms, the scheduling mixups, an executed officer, a complete embarrassment. Granted, penal legions weren’t the poster girls of competence but this was beyond that. They lost face and what smidgen of trust they had. This made business hard. Something this big always spooked customers but this was more than that. The closer scrutiny made things more difficult to smuggle and, of course, how do they know they are dealing with the Unseen Sons instead of traitors still hiding in the regiment?

Gabby didn’t care about pride or the loss of life that the incident inflicted but she did care very much about business. She had to regain faith from her clients. Word trickled down of a mission reached her ears she knew what she had to do. A multi-regiment team being sent on a little bit of revenge? A perfect way to save face. Normally Gabby would play the part of the wraith spider pulling strings in the shadows but this required someone competent, someone with tact, someone she can trust. She knew only one person who fit that description: herself.

Dressed in her typical black plated carapace and olive brown fatigues, Veteran Sergeant Gabby Smith adjusted her NCO cover before stepping onto the scene to find Commissar Yorke pacing in front of the command tent and a Valhallan with dreadlocks standing at ease.

Perfect. Time to take control.

Being the highest rank at the moment who wasn’t a Commissar, Gabby positioned herself at the front of the formation and stood at ease. As people trickled in she would direct them into a formation. If her sources were right, no laxity could be shown here. When the Second Son Lieutenant Brinton stumbled out of the tent she took that as her cue to about-face before resting at ease again, waiting for orders.
Apparently, I made too many characters. Here they are:



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CyGamer
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Postby CyGamer » Sat Apr 20, 2019 12:57 am

The soft clatter of armor came from further down, as chain mail and plate clinked against flak, as he held his helmet under his right arm. The figure approached with a calm measured gait, more of a parade march than a walk, keeping his head straight towards the tent while grey eyes flickered across those near by. He made notes of who was where, infractions of uniforms, poor weapon maintenance, and other petty violations. Knight Captain Mordred Brakii had heard of the attack on the wall 3 weeks back, and had cursed himself for not responding to the battle before it had ended. He had helped the best he could to repair the walls, but he would not miss another chance to battle the xeno filth.

As he walked by, he glanced over to Yorke. He didn't recognize the man personally, but he nodded to the Commissar. He was still... new to extra regimental relations, but he had heard many tales of their bravery. He continued up, till he came to find a spot to stand. He then began to make sure his armors straps were tightened properly and the joins well oiled. Today would be day of blood and tore flesh, and he would be sure it was off those traitors to the Great Bearer of Light.

Who says the future has to be grimdark? Matt Ward that's who.

blinddeadmcjones
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Postby blinddeadmcjones » Sat Apr 20, 2019 9:14 am

about ten away from the tent slone was crouching in the dirt with all of his gear on the ground in front him, the trooper using the time given to check over everything and do some quick weapon maintenance rites.

being out on recon when the wall was hit, levi didn't find out what happened until they had returned, and much like everyone else he had taken the revelations of infiltration into the Unseen Son ranks and such a brazen attack by the rebels about as well as everybody else had taken it, suffice to say that when news came of a retaliatory strike he jumped at the call, eager to go on the offensive for a change.

in truth the corporal was unusually focused compared to some of the other guardsmen present, making careful deliberate scrapes with a whetstone against the side of his entrenching tool until he was satisfied with its edge, the sharpness of which he tested in the time honored tradition of shaving a few stray hairs off of an arm or leg before putting the implement in its place on his webbing. pausing only to look up when brinton exited the tent levi then looked back down at his plasma gun to check that it and its cooling unit backpack were functioning properly before he put the backpack back on and slung his plasma gun on his shoulder.

oh yes, today was definitely going to be good day, he thought as he paid attention to the briefing, taking in every detail.
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Commissar Cat
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Postby Commissar Cat » Sat Apr 20, 2019 11:16 am

Brinton seemed a little higher strung than usual, if indeed it were possible. The young lieutenant fidgeted as guardsmen continued to assemble.
Whether it was the fallout from the long debate, or the uncertainty of what awaited out in the camp, would be hard to say.
It was possible that Brinton was dwelling upon seeing what had come through the wall, and what both sides were capable of.

Noticing Paxton's slightly unnerving smile, the Lieutenant returned it with a pale one of his own, before glancing at the others.
Brinton did his best to avoid looking at Gabby, already tired of Unseen Sons for the day, and not wishing to receive yet more 'advice' in whatever form it took.
He raised a quizzical, interested expression to Mordred, knowing enough heraldry to recognise the other's stature, "A knight captain? What is your speciality?"

Letting his gaze settle past the front row, Brinton spotted Levi's much less formal uniform, and remembered more of the incident weeks prior.
"You, um- Corporal? How fares your lieutenant?" the query sounded as unfamiliar as it felt to say aloud, but the Second Son appeared genuinely concerned, "I haven't seen her around since the wall fell."

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Johannes Wyss von Krieg
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Postby Johannes Wyss von Krieg » Sat Apr 20, 2019 12:04 pm

The Wall Affair. Or: Why allowing Lowborn places in the Officer Corps is an ultimately foolish endeavour.
The rabble can be expected for some things, the Guard Rabble can be expected to perform within their tasks and the High Society must be expected to lead them all by proper and correct example such is their privilege and, as some very often forget, Burden.

Today, as he understood, and he Understood, would be the day the 2nd Sons, and the whole base by extension, take to correcting the Penals' shame. Though no matter how much would they correct, those creatures would always find themselves stumbling down wilfully from the Emperor's Grace that much is assured.

Sergeant Major (1st Class) David Tybalt Frances Wentworth Montgomery the XXV came to this muster blissfully unaware of the fact that the hour is a reason to complain about and less blissfully of who he should be assaulting the breach with.
The Callistian wore his usual snarl that so often made both High and Low born preemptively check their kit and regs, deepened by the virtue of not being part of this senseless bickering inside the tent where he could restrain his 'Superior' wasteful idiocies and instead having to share a spot with this striped scum calling herself "Veteran Sergeant". Unlike her he remained in Attention.
Thankfully, the presence of a proper Fighting Noble may offset the balance of dignity ever so slightly, though this 'Brakii' is by no means exempt from scrutiny as Montgomery's respectful but nonetheless fierce green-eyed glare and nod indicated.

David occasionally broke formation and moved around the assembled like a shark circulating a wounded whale, spreading the misery with his baleful gaze -especially towards the tall fellow who decided to let go a little in the moustache and beard department. He would have said something and it seemed his mouth as starting to open but the Snotfaced Kid's call to attention spared Moroz from questions he either didn't want or was too tired of answering.

The Sgt. Major returned to his rightful place, removed a spec of dust from his painfully white flak-insulated dress uniform and returned to attention, taking in the details and glancing at the troops' behaviour.
Has Brinton regained his composure, Or would he like to continue coughing? David was not a man for eloquence but here it was a matter of performance before the men, performance which for now was not up to the old man's standards.

/

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Zeppo
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Postby Zeppo » Sat Apr 20, 2019 6:32 pm

A small figure sits on a crate at the edge of the court, observing the gathering behind her sunglasses. That was a real stream of NCOs who pass in front of her, some she recognised, but invariably her eyes focus on her Commissar. That’ll be the first time since the wall events, she has to work under his command, and she can’t help but smile as he was reduced as door guarding duty.

So, she was here, rolling her lho-sticks for almost fifteen minutes. She came as soon as she heard of the mission, she was almost buried alive when the Wall has fallen, it’s personal now. Capturing one of theirs spy was only the appetiser, the main course will come soon.
She smiles at this idea. That’ll be a good day, for sure!

When Brinton walks out the tent, Ema hops off her crate, dumps her lho and advances to take place in the ranks. She places herself behind the Unseen Son, better to keep a close look at her. She dusts her white uniform, but most of the dry mud stays in place.
Mordian Iron Guard :
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CyGamer
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Postby CyGamer » Sun Apr 21, 2019 8:47 pm

Mordred finished checking his grieves, when a voice spoke beside him, and he looked up. He was met with Britons pale features. He raised an eye brow, looking over the younger officer. He stood up, still scanning the man, before he adopted a more formal posture.

“Close quarters engagement, line infantry command, disciplinary actions and executions, counter siege tactics, and of course functions of nobility and court proceedings.” He said in a flat formal tone. Will not a large man, his armor made him loom slightly over Briton, but his features seemed to relax.

“I ‘ave ‘eard much about you lieutenant Briton. It’s been a long time since I’ve ‘ad the pleasure of meeting a fellow of noble birth.” The knight looked around, dropping to glare once more at the second son.”I also ‘ave ‘eard that you once employed a method of explosive disciplinary collars.” A smile came to his face, as the knight put his hand to his sabers.

“I respect a man who isn’t afraid to show his men the iron lash. You ‘ave my blade should you require a...executioner of order.” Mordred gave a brief salute, putting his fist over his chest. He wasn’t particularly interested in Briton, but there was a code for nobles, and he would have to abid by it.

Who says the future has to be grimdark? Matt Ward that's who.

Riveris
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Postby Riveris » Sun Apr 21, 2019 11:15 pm

The ground thudded a bit as the ogyrn trotted his way to the outside of the commands tent at least thats were everyone as pointing and telling him to go. He looked at the people around the out side of the tent "Hello. My name is Dug." He said with a big dumb grin on his face until a thought seemed to have strike him. He saw some people seemed important enough that they had stripes on there cloths. And the angry looking one with the side weird nose seemed to be in charge. He had had the same look on his face as other officers but he had a big red sash and scary looking cutter like the commissars so he must be in charge! He moved his heels together and moved his hand in what could pass for a ogyrns salute "Dug Manner. Report'en fer duty! Ser!" He remembered what the lady commissar taught him it just took him a moment to remember her lessons. He felt a little pride in that.

blinddeadmcjones
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Postby blinddeadmcjones » Mon Apr 22, 2019 3:33 am

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Tabitha Maru
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Postby Tabitha Maru » Mon Apr 22, 2019 3:18 pm

Tabitha looked around at the people gathered around here, some she recognized from before. Levi was a friend of course, and most likely the person she felt closest to in the entire base and Paxton she had worked with from time to time. Others she recognized from the wall and she suspected they were here for the same reason that she was. Some of her friends had been badly hurt that day and the sound of a chance to strike back at the enemy had appealed to her. She wasn't the most violent of soldiers and wasn't exactly a volounteer (but she hadn't objected to being ordered to show up for this).

Brinton arguing in the tent for that long was rather concerning however, she couldn't make any of it out but it was never a good sign when officers were arguing loudly with one another. Her friend was rather focused on preparing his equipment and she didn't really want to disturb him. Instead she had followed his lead and gone over her own equipment a few times as well. Partly to cover her own nervousness about the whole thing.

She looked up when a larger Ogryn showed up next to her. The first few times she had been rather afraid of them, the huge hulking sorta-humans that they were... but discovering their rather simple demeanor had changed her mind about them. So she gave him a warm smile when he introduced himself.

"Hi Dug. I'm Tabitha."
Private Tabitha Maru - Lieutenant Yudel Eckhardt



Thanks to blinddeadmcjones for the avatar

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Johannes Wyss von Krieg
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Postby Johannes Wyss von Krieg » Mon Apr 22, 2019 4:11 pm

David's Head swivelled on its neck socket at the sound of mini artillery shells detonating at the Giant Creature's steps, his gaze of highly violent intent not softening until he was absolutely sure this late oaf is indeed an Ogryn, a creature so much less than the lowliest of lowborn human, it didn't even understand its own primitivity. Nevertheless, the Guard has Standards, The Guard has Regulations, they will always be there for the Soldiers in the form of an angry NCO applying the correct amount of force.

The Sergeant Major walked with heavy determination towards the AbHuman, facial features slowly milding down from Murder to Admonishment and Disappointment, like a parent whose reasonable expectations were not met.

"Hello Manner." he curtly and firmly greeted Dug, leaning forward a bit with his hands behind his back. "Did you know you are late for Muster? It is very lucky we are late too. You know why Dug? If we were on time, we wouldn't wait for you, Dug. You know what we are about to do? We are going to crush Dirty Xenos that killed our friends and said bad words about our mothers. How can you crush Dirty Xenos if you are late? You would come here..." The Sergeant extended his arm towards the mustering grounds for emphasis "find no one, and proceed to wander aimlessly, wasting the Emperor's sunlight and not crushing Dirty Xenos, is that what you want? Ogryn Dug Manner, I expect you to be on time for Muster and that is what you are going to do. Understand? It is very bad to be late. Very Bad." The Middle aged man gripped Dug's Shoulder with his other hand and pulled him onward "Now let's go hear out what the smartyies say on how we will eradicate the Xeno Today, yes?"

/

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Fates End
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Postby Fates End » Mon Apr 22, 2019 6:41 pm

Another form arrived to the muster point, moving with a predator's grace and intent. Grenadier 9987-A, or Wolf to those that knew him, had been voluntold for the mission at hand. In place of the usual hellgun that most Grenadiers were issued, he carried only the more standard wooden-stocked Lucius-pattern lasgun on a worn strap over his shoulder. various bits of gear rustled along his battered carapace as he moved, and the mask he wore gave off a faint "Shck" sound as he drew in steady breaths.

A quick glance at the surroundings confirmed what he'd suspected. Far too much rank in one spot, not enough killers. Inside the confines of his mask, Wolf's angular face twitched in annoyance. He already wasn't fond of the idea, and the others coming along weren't doing much to reassure him of the mission's success rate.

But of the available Grenadiers from his unit . . . Goat wasn't a good fit in the presence of a Commissar, Ash had come off another of his typical double or triple shifts, and December was quite sure that the Commissar in charge would send her packing if she showed up. Of course . . . Nines was available. Nines was "always" available. But Nines was also a bit of a maniac. Maybe they all were, come to think of it. Today though, today was Wolf's turn to go into the fight and try to drag the idealistic fools out of it in one piece.

He fell into position next to the others and remained silent, playing the part of a Krieg drone with little thought. It was what they expected, it was what they would get.
"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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QuothTheRaven
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Postby QuothTheRaven » Mon Apr 22, 2019 9:31 pm


Savin sits next to Levi in a miserable bundle of blankets, coats, hot-bottles, and even a "borrowed" valhallan fur cap. She could easily be mistaken for a pile of dirty laundry if she didn't occasionally let out an explosive sneeze.
The ratling has been in the medicae ward with an ague for weeks, but she managed to secure an "all-clear" diagnosis somehow to make sure she was in on this mission.
Quietly sipping from a mug of foul-smelling medicinal tea, she watches the muster. Lot of new souls. Some familiar faces. She frowns as the boujee officer in the chainmail chews out the ogryn. There's one to watch out for.
She sneezes again. Ugh.



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Heart|Soul
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Postby Heart|Soul » Mon Apr 22, 2019 10:00 pm

Lourn wobbled up to the muster point, looking a bit more more haggard than usual: dark bags beneath his eyes, pale skin (paler than usual, at least), unbrushed hair, and his scraggly not-quite-a-beard was growing back. The reason was quite simple, he just hadn't been sleeping. Anyone that had been keeping tabs on him would have noticed that after the breach at the Wall, he started volunteering for a lot of work around the base the moment he was cleared for duty, working as many hours as he could. It really didn't matter what he did, as long as he didn't fall asleep. As long as he was awake, he was fine. The trick was just staying awake.

He figured that at this point, fighting a Crisis Suit by himself was preferable compared to what was lurking in his mind, after he closed his eyes. The nightmares. He'd tried to look for a good contact to get him some extra rations of recaff, though he'd been told he might need a lot of lho sticks to pay for them all. Thankfully he never took up smoking, or it'd take much longer.

He tried to not think about it, focusing instead on the mission at hand. Whatever that was.

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Hobbsy
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Postby Hobbsy » Tue Apr 23, 2019 1:51 am

//

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QuothTheRaven
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Postby QuothTheRaven » Tue Apr 23, 2019 7:23 am




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CyGamer
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Postby CyGamer » Tue Apr 23, 2019 10:02 am

As Mordred finished talking to Lieutenant, he felt some heavy thumping. He looked around, confused as to why he felt artillery, till a long shadow crossed overhim. He slowly turned, meeting with the knees of Dug. He looked up, slowly taking in the Ogryn, before seeing the smiling face.

"Deus in Terra, what was this thing doing next to me?"he thought, looking to Brinton for clues. He had never handled abhumans before, but he'd heard about how a fully grown Ogryn could rip a Hallisi in half. He realized he was leaning back, and so straightened himself and began to speak to "Dug", before someone stepped up and began berating the Ogryn. Mordred looked to the man, eyes burning holes in the side of his head. As the Sergeant Major finished his berating, Mordred took a few paces towards him.

"You, Sergeant, did this..." He cast a look over his shoulder,"Man-of-Arms address you? No, it was me. Are you the highest of rank. No, that is Lieutenant Brinton. If disciplinary reprimand was needed it will be carried out by the officer of rank or those he designates. The abhuman addressed me, and in proper fashion I am to respond in turn. If you subvert me in such a manner again I will send you to the brig. Now, form rank, and let me deal with this.” The knight stood over David, speaking in a cold unwavering tone. He waited a moment before turning around and walking back to Briton and Dug, and another trooper else talking to the Ogryn.

“Manner, was it. I am Knight Captain Barkii. I welcome you to our expedition. However, I am not the officer of rank, that would be Lieutenant Brinton. He will give your orders.” Mordred said, feeling odd craning his neck up so far.

Who says the future has to be grimdark? Matt Ward that's who.

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Commissar Cat
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