40K/Inquisitor RPG. The Line of Damnation.
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- The Yosemite Bear
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Cait saw the Venom crumple beneath the mass of the changing thing, the passenger vanes, sliced imputantly through the changing for giving the illusion of reprisial at it's demise, the creature was not harmed in any way.
running up the wall Cait flipped and channeled his slight amount of psychic power into his power blades. The energy cut but did little against the shapeshifting mass, while the shredded wings sprouted tentecels that sought the edymion like dark figure. still the creature howled in pain as the starfire from the pulse rifles cut into it. Cait was only playing with the creature, tying it up, to be banished by his allies.
running up the wall Cait flipped and channeled his slight amount of psychic power into his power blades. The energy cut but did little against the shapeshifting mass, while the shredded wings sprouted tentecels that sought the edymion like dark figure. still the creature howled in pain as the starfire from the pulse rifles cut into it. Cait was only playing with the creature, tying it up, to be banished by his allies.
The scariest folk song lyrics are "My Boy Grew up to be just like me" from cats in the cradle by Harry Chapin
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Hethor backpedalled and raised his plasma pistol. The Daemon was pulsing mass of blue and pink energy, constantly shifting form. A tendrel lashed out, striking the plasma pistol out of his hand. Another lashed foreward and Hethor severed it with his sword. The pierce of daemon glittered and disolved into dancing fire motes and slime.
Several other tendrels lashed out. Two impacted the conversion field in flashed of light. The other hit D'eckor's chest with an impact like an Ork's fist.
Several other tendrels lashed out. Two impacted the conversion field in flashed of light. The other hit D'eckor's chest with an impact like an Ork's fist.
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
Kruger signalled to one of his men, who started performing battlefield surgery on the wounded troopers.
"Kruger/Adivan, Novum. You are the only troops not currently tied up; I need you at the manufactorum." A transport hovered over their heads.
The figure dropped his shield and power sink, caught Gix's energy and fired it back at the plasma beam, neutralysing it. He reequipped his shield and sink and clenched his fist. Gix choked. "Satisfied yet?" the intruder said.
"Kruger/Adivan, Novum. You are the only troops not currently tied up; I need you at the manufactorum." A transport hovered over their heads.
The figure dropped his shield and power sink, caught Gix's energy and fired it back at the plasma beam, neutralysing it. He reequipped his shield and sink and clenched his fist. Gix choked. "Satisfied yet?" the intruder said.
Last edited by Pcm979 on 2004-12-09 01:43am, edited 1 time in total.
Prius had a moment of appreciation for Hethor's courage in confronting the beast as he ordered the squad to spread out and line up on the beast. "Careful now... fire."
At his word, nine lasguns snapped off shots, six of which actually struck the whirling beast, to little effect. The shots did seem to distract it, though.
"Keep it up," Prius ordered, making his way down toward it.
At his word, nine lasguns snapped off shots, six of which actually struck the whirling beast, to little effect. The shots did seem to distract it, though.
"Keep it up," Prius ordered, making his way down toward it.
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"On the way. What's happenning?" As he boarded the transport, folllowed by the Stormtroopers, Kruger, and his retinue, Adivan allowed himself to relax again. It felt good to be able to sit down, even if only for a little while.
"The bird let out a slow chicken cackle. It sounded like a chicken, but in her heart she knew it wasn't. In that instant, she completely understood the concept of a chicken that was not a chicken. This looked like a chicken, like most of the Mud People's chickens. But this was no chicken.
"This was evil manifest."
- Terry "Not a fantasy author, honest" Goodkind, bringing unintentional comedy to a bookshop near you since 1994.
"This was evil manifest."
- Terry "Not a fantasy author, honest" Goodkind, bringing unintentional comedy to a bookshop near you since 1994.
"We've got a major Charlie Foxtrot at the spearhead, but all the enemy's attention is concentrated there. If we could assemble troops at the manufactorum and push through there into the enemy's heart..."
The flying beast seemed to sense what Cait was planning and dug it's tentacles into the Venom, making it drop like a brick. Cait managed to get clear just as the beast/Venom crashed into the Daemon fighting Hethor, which shook.. And then doubled in size, with Eldar weaponry appearing on it randomly.
The flying beast seemed to sense what Cait was planning and dug it's tentacles into the Venom, making it drop like a brick. Cait managed to get clear just as the beast/Venom crashed into the Daemon fighting Hethor, which shook.. And then doubled in size, with Eldar weaponry appearing on it randomly.
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Hethor staggered back, drawing the beast into the open. The Imperial Guard boys put a few holes in it, but it didn't seem to mind much. When the navy started blowing chunks out with their shotguns, that was a different story. It lashed out, shedding mass in the form of a volley of blue and pink fireballs that sprayed it's attackers. Most people got behind cover. One guardsmen caught one in the chest and fell a charred wreck. Hethor took the opportunity to get the hell away from it.
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
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The guard troopers and the inquistioner watched in befuddlement as white cherry blossoms filled the air, the constantly shifting one, watched as leaped, twisted and moced, never staying still, his strikes were here and there, disolving bits, and pieces, still Cait's skill and luck eventually ran out, and he was ensnared.
The creature engolphing him didn't understand the laughter, or purpose of the eldar's sacrifice. Gix watched in disbelief as the demon vanished, pulled into hell, or should one say the primal nothingness of the warp;p...
barely out of reach as the Eldar took the demon with him.
The creature engolphing him didn't understand the laughter, or purpose of the eldar's sacrifice. Gix watched in disbelief as the demon vanished, pulled into hell, or should one say the primal nothingness of the warp;p...
barely out of reach as the Eldar took the demon with him.
The scariest folk song lyrics are "My Boy Grew up to be just like me" from cats in the cradle by Harry Chapin
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Hethor watched the as the Eldar craft somehow appeared in the manufactorum, crashed into the daemonic beast, merged with it, and then the Harlequin charge in and in a moment they both vanished. He checked his rebreather. No, it was still attached. What he saw couldn't have been a hallucination, could it?
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
Prius, who had been creeping up on the daemon, watched it vanish with the eldar.
Good riddance. For the first time, he was really willing to concede that the beasts had their place in this battle. To the warp with both of the animals. He rose to his feet, sheathing his sword and nodding at Hethor. "Well fought, sergeant."
Good riddance. For the first time, he was really willing to concede that the beasts had their place in this battle. To the warp with both of the animals. He rose to his feet, sheathing his sword and nodding at Hethor. "Well fought, sergeant."
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The sergeant barely notices the commissar's praise. Hethor was still blinking, still trying to understand what he saw. He retrieved his weapons dully, shaking his head. This was strange.
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
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Gix staggered. There was no way the psyker could react that fast. He should be char lying on the ground. The only way all of those defenses and counters could have been put into place was foreknowledge. He had known Gix's strikes before Gix had begun them. The Architect of Fate, those ancient words danced in his head. The PsyKing had worked some sorcery to anticipate Jolan's actions. How was he going to defeat an enemy that was so strong and so skillful with only brute strength at his dispossal?
"Gix to all Inquisition units. The enemy has a powerful psyker with some kind of predictive sorcery. Recommend overwhelming mundane firepower when dealing with him. Or a psycannon. Gix out."
"Gix to all Inquisition units. The enemy has a powerful psyker with some kind of predictive sorcery. Recommend overwhelming mundane firepower when dealing with him. Or a psycannon. Gix out."
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
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As Adivan mowed down yet another squad of the Twisted Path, he noted another set of those damnable exploding runes. He aimed his boltgun, about to the fire. Then a thought occurred to him. The runes were behind the main line of enemy resistance, and the area was thick with Chaos forces of all kinds. Emptying the rest of his ammo drum into the nearest enemies, he reached out with his mind and brushed the runes lightly, just enough to detonate them. Pink and purple fire washed over the defenders, and the screams of the dying almost drowned out the sound of gunfire. In response, the Imperial forces advanced faster, pressing their advantage mercilessly.
"The bird let out a slow chicken cackle. It sounded like a chicken, but in her heart she knew it wasn't. In that instant, she completely understood the concept of a chicken that was not a chicken. This looked like a chicken, like most of the Mud People's chickens. But this was no chicken.
"This was evil manifest."
- Terry "Not a fantasy author, honest" Goodkind, bringing unintentional comedy to a bookshop near you since 1994.
"This was evil manifest."
- Terry "Not a fantasy author, honest" Goodkind, bringing unintentional comedy to a bookshop near you since 1994.
The PsyKing floated in limbo, organising his forces. He came across a piece of information and opened a portal into the Warp. "Master, Kruger is here."
"Excellent. Send the Blademaster. Leave a message: From an old friend."
"Yes, my Lord."
He hummed a tune to himself as he pulled the Blademaster back from the warp. It was good when Lord Torquen was distracted. It left him free to do other things...
"Excellent. Send the Blademaster. Leave a message: From an old friend."
"Yes, my Lord."
He hummed a tune to himself as he pulled the Blademaster back from the warp. It was good when Lord Torquen was distracted. It left him free to do other things...
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Gix and his retinue strode or staggered towards the aid station. Half of his people were wounded and he had spent half the day fighting and strained himself. If the PsyKing came back for another round Gix needed to be as close to top form as possible.
As the medicae moved among his troopers, Gix consulted his data slate. The psychic wave he had felt must have been one of his fellow inquisitors because the chaos forces in that area were much reduced and falling back in disaray. With a start he realized that the wounded soldier over there was Commissar Prius, battered and worse for where. There was something about him. . . Jolan couldn't put his finger on it.
As the medicae moved among his troopers, Gix consulted his data slate. The psychic wave he had felt must have been one of his fellow inquisitors because the chaos forces in that area were much reduced and falling back in disaray. With a start he realized that the wounded soldier over there was Commissar Prius, battered and worse for where. There was something about him. . . Jolan couldn't put his finger on it.
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
The Blademaster was a simple creature, harldy worthy of the term 'sentience'; more a living weapon, to be aimed, fired, and forgotten about. That didn't mean that it was incapable of holding a grudge, however.
Heavy metal doors closed the Manufactorum and everyone in it, including Gix and Prius, inside. The Blademaster began his work. If his projected path happened to intesect with Adivan's, well, that might have been a coincidence. Possibly.
Heavy metal doors closed the Manufactorum and everyone in it, including Gix and Prius, inside. The Blademaster began his work. If his projected path happened to intesect with Adivan's, well, that might have been a coincidence. Possibly.
Last edited by Pcm979 on 2004-12-09 02:18am, edited 1 time in total.
- The Yosemite Bear
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Elsewhere on a distant world, in a darkened cell, a young woamn continued to injure herself, the whip's barbs dug into her flesh, as she chanted, healing just a moment later. Trust not the MUTANT, The Heretic, or the Alien to live. She knew in her heart she was something wrong. She was just a novice, raised by the order of the burning lance. Yet she knew now she was stronger then the others. her wounds healed faster then they should, and try as she might, in the weeks since the destruction of the purification squad she had served in she still could not die.
The sisters had come to cleanse they had found not just cultists, but a sorcerer of the Traitor Legions. The Chaos wisard had held them prisoner, with his mind sorcery, yet some how she was uneffected. Her flamer burned the heretic slaves, as she went into close combat, her blows stronger then others, knocking aside cultists, and heretics like they were toys. Then she faced the sorcerer. A currupt minion of the Traitor legions, and she had SURVIVED against one who had the strength of a bioengineered marine. Yet, she could still remember the sudden sense of Fear from the heretic as it saw it's mind powers could not effect her.
The Revrend Mother strode into her cell. Your life is not yours to take child, his holyness still has use for you.
The sisters had come to cleanse they had found not just cultists, but a sorcerer of the Traitor Legions. The Chaos wisard had held them prisoner, with his mind sorcery, yet some how she was uneffected. Her flamer burned the heretic slaves, as she went into close combat, her blows stronger then others, knocking aside cultists, and heretics like they were toys. Then she faced the sorcerer. A currupt minion of the Traitor legions, and she had SURVIVED against one who had the strength of a bioengineered marine. Yet, she could still remember the sudden sense of Fear from the heretic as it saw it's mind powers could not effect her.
The Revrend Mother strode into her cell. Your life is not yours to take child, his holyness still has use for you.
The scariest folk song lyrics are "My Boy Grew up to be just like me" from cats in the cradle by Harry Chapin
Prius forced himself to meet Gix's eyes, embarrassed at what he regarded as the inferior performance of his unit. While they had performed as well as could be expected from a gathering of ill-trained cannon fodder, they had still not produced a victory, for which he was deeply ashamed. He glanced at the medicae. "Hurry up," he snarled. The medicae finished winding the bandage around his head and backed away hastily.
Prius rose to his feet, nodding to Gix. He would make this right, if he had to lead the charge himself.
Prius rose to his feet, nodding to Gix. He would make this right, if he had to lead the charge himself.