# The Purgation of St. Cryme's World



## Scathainn (Feb 21, 2010)

*The Purgation of St. Cryme’s World
A Black Templars Roleplay​*

_ "The heretic is always better dead. And mortal eyes cannot distinguish the saint from the heretic."
- George Bernard Shaw -

“Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for mankind.”
- Horace Mann -
_​

*St. Cryme’s World* is, or was, a temperate world, full of Emperor-Fearing pilgrims who migrated to the world following tales of the mythical St. Cryme, an Imperial Priest from late M.39 who was martyred alongside nineteen of the Adeptus Arbites while purging a cult of Slaanesh-worshipping cultists. As he lay dying with one of the vile cultists preparing to deal the death blow, he prayed to the Emperor saying that he only regretted that he was unable to defeat the heretics. Suddenly, a vision appeared to Cryme of the Emperor himself appearing before him, saying to him that victory was his. Miraculously, the wounds that Cryme suffered appeared on each and every one of the Chaos cultists, consigning them to the same fate as the priest. St. Cryme was supposedly buried on this world, as his dying wish was to be buried on a world untouched by servants of the Emperor, so that his burial might be one more conquest in His Name.

However, the pilgrims that flocked to this world are no longer the same as they were then. Over millennia, St. Cryme’s world was forgotten in the massive maze of bureaucratic paperwork and legal forms, and through the millennia was tainted by the foul forces of chaos. By the time the Administratum Tax-Ship _Malcador’s Quill_ made its millennial tax check-up on the planet in 743999.M41, its government was infiltrated and overthrown by a vile cult dedicated to Slaanesh. Calling for aid to a nearby Black Templars outpost on the nearby planet Braxxus IX, a small contingent of 10 Sword Bretheren, 30 Initiates and 22 Neophytes were sent to the planet to aid the loyalist rebellion and restore the deposed government.

This is the planet you orbit now, aboard the Astartes vessel _Fist of Deliverance_. Preparations are being made across the ship in anticipation of planetfall, and each of you are in various places around the ship making your own preparations of various kinds....

Siegfried, Esel Loch: You three are in the Armourium of the _Fist of Deliverance_, having your weapons blessed by the Tech-Brother Erik. As his servo-arms and mechandrites work their ways over your arms, you intone sacred blessings of true aim and keen cut in order to maintain them. Once he is finished, you take your weapons and begin polishing your armour, making light conversation in the meantime. Being lead by several experienced Sword-Brothers, you feel that the mission must have some level of importance....

_Make conversation with each other. Siegfried and Esel, don't forget to use this time to turn it into a "teachable moment". What are your thoughts on the upcoming engagement? Are you excited? Nervous? Indifferent?_

Konrad, Godfred Sigismund, Dorian, Lothair: You four are in the _Fist's_ small inner chapel along with Ansgar, being blessed by the intimidating Brother-Chaplain Heinrich. You chant arcane words and phrases in High Gothic as you prepare to douse your blades and bolts in the blood of the heretic. This is but one small engagement among hundreds for you, yet you treat it with the same reverence as all the others. After the prayers you enter the outer chapel to converse with each other quietly. 

_What are your prayers to the Emperor before this fight? How do you feel about the other Sword-Brothers? About Ansgar? About the Initiates and Esel Loch? And what are your feelings about the mission?_

Adrian: You are alone in your room, having been appointed the Emperor's Champion for this mission by Marshal Aximus only an hour ago. The Black Sword rests along the wall as you sit on your spartan bed, and the helm of the Emperor's Champion lies at its feet. It is a heavy burden to be the Emperor's Chosen son, but you feel up to the challenge. But you are aware of others who sought this post; many felt that Sword-Brother Konrad would be the one chosen, for he takes his honour more seriously than any other...

_How do you feel about your appointed post? Can you feel the Emperor guiding you? Are you experiencing any signs or portents about the mission ahead? What of Konrad? Do you know him? Do you think he would be perhaps jealous of you?_


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The game is afoot gentlemen. :victory:


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

Dorian stayed knelt at the alter within the chapel. Reciting litinies, prayers for his fellow brothers, and even a plea to the emperor to help them save this troubled world from certian doom. To be honest, he spoke high Gothic better than he did the common language of low Gothic, anymore at least. Dorian didn't just spend today in the chapel, hell he hadn't left the chapel in neigh a weeks time, leaving only to turn to the galley and fill his belly full of food before trudging back to the alter and praying. The notion that he didn't remove his armor in any way shape or form during this entire time could possibly also be seen as a tad odd. Removing his helm only to eat, though he kept the hood up even then.

Dorian looked to Konrad for a moment. The aging marine had been through much in his time, if anything most would respect that experience alone. Dorian on the other hand pitted him though he spoke nothing of it... How many fellow brothers and children of the emperor that man must have seen die. It stung at Dorian forcing him to look away, a small spark coming from the right eye of his armor as his suit's machine spirit apparently tried to keep itself from leaking sacred oil. 

Looking now to Sigismund, he'd look up, speaking his first true words in four days, everything before this was simple prayer, no tangeable words before. "Brother Sigismund. I feel your gaze. Do not envy my past my brother, for I would not wish what I have seen even on our greatest enemy. Death watch... Is not what you think it to be" His head turning from his brother now to the alter of the emperor and of their chapter. "Let us pray now, and pledge our service to the emperor to protect his honor. And to guard his children from harm. Saviors we may not be, but by the throne his children deserve not to be denied his light. May it forever shine upon them, guiding them and keeping them from harm." 

An initiate had entered the chapel in time to hear Dorian's last few words. his blind pride in himself and the doctrines blinding him "You shy away from combat brother? Do you denie your duty as a" But Dorian simply cut the marine off. "Hold your tongue boy. For you know not what I have seen and you know not what I know. I do not shy away from combat. It is his will that we fight. But I am not so daft and dim to simply believe blindly that those who denie or are denied the emperor's light are not in pain. when you can stair your own brother in the eye and no longer see the emperor's guiding light in their eyes... Then and only then will you know the horror I have seen. And only then will you know what I know. " Dorian didn't seem angry in his tone of voice. In stark contrary he sounded as if he pittied the young marine, to which he would add "And brother, Know I mean no offence when I say this, But I hope you never have to know what I know. " With that, Dorian seemed to return to his several day long self imposed vow of silence, well, chanting, prayers, and other bits asside that is. 

Dorian only hoped that Lothair would agree with him in the hope that they could save this world. Ansgar however, he worried about. He feared that the rage he had for chaos, the total hatred for them, would lead him down a dire path that was most undesirable.


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## William Siegfried (Jun 25, 2011)

Sigismund like his other brothers stayed kneeling down in front of the chapel, making his prayers before the coming crusade to purge another world of heretics and traitors. He was saying many prayers each asking for strength and guidance in the coming battle that lay ahead. He prayed the Emperor guide his blade and keep both him and his weapon true in faith as they face the forces of chaos. His long gold like hair covering over his face as he prayed silently. Sigismund could see and feel the Chaplain's gaze upon him. It was one of pride and respect towards Sigismund, mainly due to his history of being one of the Emperor's Champions back when he was but an Initiate. That or it could have been due to the fact Sigismund was back here once again praying and making his oath's and speaking to the Chaplain about battles past and the days before his becoming a Chaplain. They'd already fought on a good number of worlds together and had fought against a great many enemies of the Emperor and had still walked away alive; scarred yes, but very much alive. 

As Sigismund sat praying finishing off his last prayer and rite he raised his head his smiling, before he pushed back his hair from his face. He then looked around at many of his brothers kneeling and praying much like he was. Sigismund mentally sighed as he looked at his Sword Brother Konrad. By all means the both of them were scarred and aging soldiers of the Emperor, yet Sigismund seemed to have been blessed by the Emperor due to having his youthful look, unlike Konrad whom one could see the aging starting to happen. He had a number of times fought beside Konrad on a number of worlds and had fought and bleed beside him. 

After reminiscing about his and Konrad's past he turned his head to look towards Dorian. He was a younger one of the Sword Brothers here, but quite experienced and had seen his fair share of blood and loss. Sigismund felt bad to think of what he must have gone through being part of the Death Watch. He had wished to join them once but thought his path was better fighting along side and leading the younger ones within the Chapter to earn his way to become a Chapter Chaplain and wear the skull helmet. As he thought on the subject he realized he was staring at Dorian for to long so he turned his head back to go back to prayers, when suddenly he heard Dorian speak for the first real time in over 4 days. Sigismund grinned gently when he heard his brother say how he was 'envious of him and his status as if Sigismund was a mere young Initiate. From his tone he could hear his brother think as though Sigismund had not seen as much blood or death as he, when in truth he'd most likely seen far more than he. However Sigismund just smiled and shook his head. "Brother you forget I've lived for a great many a year now... I've seen my fair share... more so than you I bet. I didn't lose my eye just sitting behind the front lines haha. Also you forget, I was once one of the Emperor's Champions back when I was an Initiate. You can ask Konrad here about that story as well." Sigismund had replied in a respectable tone yet still full of life and joy just as it always was. "Indeed, I was about to suggest the same Brother." He replied again shaking his head smiling still.

Shortly after he looked back down his smile now gone as he began to say his prayers, and chants. As he did the sound of heavy footsteps belonging to another came into the Chapel followed by the questioning towards Dorian. Sigismund sighed as he reached his hand out after Dorian's reply. "Relax Brother.. He is still very new to war, and battle. As you say I too hope he does not face or know what we here know but that is wishful thinking, when we already know he'll face what we've faced along the way." Sigismund told Dorian in a hurt tone thinking of what the young Marine will one day face, just as all the Sword Brothers in this chapel did. "As for you brother I believe you should ready your weapons and armor with a techpriest or techMarine." Sigismund told the young Marine who quickly did as he was told when Sigismund looked towards him frowning slightly, which was rare out of combat.

Afterwards he went back to his prayers and chants. Thanking the Emperor for allowing him to live and fight in his name. Just as his other brothers were.


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## Masked Jackal (Dec 16, 2009)

The blessings seemed to go by as almost a blur, recited things, that had already worked their way into the deepest parts of his mind. Some of those who taught him would have been cross at that, saying that every blessing in a Space Marines mind must always be in the forefront, but Siegfried believed that to properly serve the Emperor, he must believe in them in a totality that couldn't be achieved by mere thought. Such introspection was only worthy of calm periods like this, and these were what served to define the way one was a servant of the Emperor.

When finally, the ritual was done, and their bolters were ready, Siegfried, and the initiate and neophyte he was with, went to a different part of the Armorium, to fully prepare their armor for the upcoming battles. "So, brothers, have either of you been to this world? What is its significance?"


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## G0arr (Sep 20, 2010)

*Sword Brother Konrad*

Konrad knelt silently as he whispered. It was another world befouled by chaos, another planet falling to the ruinous powers. His prayers were for the souls of all the faithful. He asked the emperor to steel them against the taint, to keep them from temptation, and to forgive Konrad for what he would be forced to do again. Shards of memory from Geonide surfaced. A world consumed by so much chaos that daemons walked the surface. He remembered the call of the daemons as they were set upon. He could remember the guardsmen’s faces as their souls were twisted and soiled. He remembered the face of Brother Davius, the way his brother’s blood coated his own powerfist, the taste of the rite of passage as he spoke it to the twisted corpse, the weight of three men, the chapter’s dues on his hip.

“May none falter here,” Konrad whispered. There was a voice to his right. It was Dorian. The sword brother had only been with them for two years, but had shown his worth. He spoke to Brother Sigismund. The two had been to war together, and was one of the oldest brothers among those here. They had known each other for over a century now. They had both fought on Geonide, but thankfully Sigismund had not been with the older sword brother when the worst of the daemons arrived. The two of them spoke of death, and their experiences. As they did Konrad held his tongue.
_"…Saviors we may not be, but by the throne his children deserve not to be denied his light. May it forever shine upon them, guiding them and keeping them from harm."_ Dorian spoke to end.
_"Indeed, I was about to suggest the same Brother."_ Sigismund replied.

Konrad nodded in silent reply. "For every soul still loyal," he said aloud. His voice was deep and rough.

The footsteps came an instant later. Words twinged with a slight sense of pity. Then the words were spoken "_when you can stair your own brother in the eye and no longer see the emperor's guiding light in their eyes... Then and only then will you know the horror I have seen._" Konrad opened his eyes. Slowly he stood. 

The initiate moved away Konrad approached. His face betrayed nothing as he moved to Dorian. "You spoke to that initiate in the same tone as I have heard from you. Look upon what you have done, and for whom you have done it. There is no place for pity in our hearts. We have all seen or done things we are not fond or proud of but we did them with purpose," Konrad looked Dorian in the eyes, "You can never regret, you can never falter. These things can worm at you, they can eat at you, and in the end they can consume you. Honor the fallen for what they were, honor the living for what they are, but never dishonor yourself with remorse. Fill your heart with hate, with duty, and with His fire. If you do that there will be room for nothing else." There was no hint of emotion on the older sword brothers face. "Remember this if nothing else young brother. Every day we battle is a day of reckoning. With every breath think not of any shame from your past, but look toward what is to come. If you ever feel soiled shame in memory, cleanse its dishonor with the blood of your foe!"


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## Goglas (Jun 24, 2011)

*Neophyte Esel Loch*

"...It had six arms, and four legs, and a crown of horns atop its monstrous head. The beast rose from the ashes of the world and spread its blood-stained wings across the sky, blotting out the sun and covering all in shadow.
It glared down on me with eyes as black as coal, and captured me in its gaze. I looked at its magnificence, and knew it for what it was - A Keeper of Secrets. The taint dripped from its voluptuous body like the blood from its fangs. Screaming to the heavens, I raised the Black Sword of our ancestors, and charged. Glory to the Emperor!..." 

- The Memories of Captain Leon, page 653


Esel shook his head and blinked, and found himself staring at Tech-Brother Erik. He was whispering some incantation to the machine-spirit of Esel's bolt pistol, and pressed an insignia of the Aquila on the weapon.
"Honor the battle gear of the chapter," the Techmarine said in his metallic voice.
"I live to serve," answered Esel.
He blinked once more, and put a hand to his head. A small chuckle escaped his lips, one filled with self-doubt and loathing. _Already I fear the enemy, and I haven't even seen them yet. How pathetic,_ he thought.

The Techmarine was done with Esel's pistol, and has moved on to the maintenance of the other weapons on the table; His master's bolt pistol, and their two swords. 
The young Neophyte stared intently at the sword of his master, Intiate Siegfried, and was amazed at its quality. He asked himself how long it would be until he got to use such a terrifying weapon in battle. _Although, truth be told, the Techmarine's mechadendrite doesn't look too bad either._ 
He chuckled once more, glad he was able to distract himself from the battle to come for a few moments.

Yet The Memories of Captain Leon kept creeping back into his mind as he continued to bless his weapons. Scenes of horror and blood and pain, and unimaginable corruption. Was he about to face the same on the world of St. Cryme?
A single look from Siegfried was enough to remove such questions from his mind. Esel was a Space Marine of the Black Templars. Fear was...unbecoming, and never tolerated by his master.

Once the blessings have been made, and the weapons were ready to deliver the Emperor's light to His enemies, the Neophyte and his master began to prepare their armor. 
Initiate Siegfried then broke the silence and said-
"So, brothers, have either of you been to this world? What is its significance?" 

Esel did not believe master Siegfried was really directing the question at him, a lowly Neophyte, and only included him out of respect for a brother. After all, he was only 18, and has never once encountered Chaos in his life, at least not outside Chaplain Heinrich's library books and archives. 

He then simply shook his head to indicate he knew nothing, and looked to Tech-Brother Erik, waiting for his reply. 
Once a reply was given, Esel asked Siegfried - "Master, do you know why so many Sword-Brothers are coming with us on this mission? Is Chaos truly that powerful, that the chapter would deem it necessary to send such a force to combat lowly traitors?"


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

Kneeling before the Chaplain, Lothair continued praying. He had seldom left the chapel in the days leading up to this, as it was where he spent most of his time. Asking the Emperor for guidance and protection, not just for himself, but all of his brothers he found his gaze settled On the other Sword Brothers for the first time. As he watched them pray, he began to wonder how well they performed in combat. As a new addition to this squad, Lothair had never seen any of these men in combat, but looked forward to it. As he looked over Sword Brother Ansgar, a look of worry crossed his face. The man's fury on the battlefield was second to none, yet Lothair worried that if he continiued this way he would drown himself in the blood of his enemies. Shaking his head, his gaze settled on Dorian. The marine had been in the Chapel praying the entire time just as he had. Looking him over, he could tell the man was haunted by his past, but decided to let it be. "some men were best left alone with their demons" he thought as he heard Dorian Speak for the first time in days.

After listening to the short exchange between Dorian and Sigismund, and listen only for Lothair felt he did not know these men well enough to intervene, he began to become concerned. "if they speak to each other like this in the chapel" he thought " than what shall it be on the battlefield?" he banished these thoughts with a shake of his head. No matter, for Lothairs confidence in his Brothers was unshakable, and his resolve firm. He slowly stood and made his way to the outer chapel. On his way out he passed an initiate. Nodding slowly to the young marine, he sat and began to think of battles past. After hearing the young marines exchange with Dorian, he watched the marine begin to exit the chapel. He looked at him with pity in his eyes "if your confidence in your betters falters, then how do you remain confident in your self?" he said sadly as the young marine exited. The initiate looked at him, nodded and said " I thank you for your words of wisdom, sword brother." as he left. As he sat and remembered battles past his mind wandered to armageddon, as it usually did before battle. He had heard a man he fought alongside with there, Brother Adrian, was selected Emperors champion for this mission. He smiled at the thought of fighting alongside him again, and seeing him in action. Before he left to go ready his weapons and armor, he offered a short prayer of protection over the young Neophyte. " I shall keep an eye on the lad" He thought as he left the Chapel.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Adrian sat, head bowed, on the bed in his sparsely furnished room. The armour of the Emperor’s champion was before him and the Black Sword was hung on one wall. He slowly stood and nodded and several serfs came through the door to help him get into the armour. After several minutes of reverent chanting the backpack was fitted in place and Adrian felt the power rush through the artificer armour. He waved the serfs out of the way and examined the armour. It was beautifully crafted and engraved with images of space marines fighting all the ancient horrors of the galaxy. He was honoured to be given the chance to wear such valuable armour. He sat back down, the bed creaking under his armoured form but it was designed for such weight and would not break. His helmet was on a table in front of him and he reached for it but stopped when something flashed in front of his eyes. He stood and turned, seeing that the wall in front of him had vanished and instead there was a shining image of the Emperor’s Golden Throne. Adrian dropped to his knees in reverence and heard a heavenly choir.

He looked up once more and images flashed on the wall. They showed he and his battle brothers fighting against the foul warriors of Chaos and more often than not they showed the Black Templars vanquishing the foe. The other times the visions merely disappeared before they could finish. He stood and whispered a prayer of thanks to the Emperor that he had shown his chosen instrument these portents. He turned away from the wall as it returned to its normal state. He picked up the Black Sword from it’s rack and sheathed the long blade in the scabbard on his back. He turned back to his helmet and picked it up. He pulled it on while mouthing a prayer to the Emperor. His HUD came up immediately, showing him the locations and status of all his battle brothers encased in their power armour. He picked up his bolt pistol and placed it in his holster while his knife went into the sheath strapped to his chest.

He left the room, removing his helmet as he did so, walking through the ship towards armoury where several of his brothers were. He entered the armoury in time to hear a neophyte say to initiate Gislenus “Master, do you know why so many Sword-Brothers are coming with us on this mission? Is Chaos truly that powerful, that the chapter would deem it necessary to send such a force to combat lowly traitors?” He smiled slightly inside his helmet. He had once been like that, convinced of the power of his chapter. The Third war for Armageddon had told him otherwise. “Chaos is probably the most dangerous foe in the galaxy. They are led by traitor space marines to match our skill and speed. Our advantage is our faith in the Emperor. Chaos can corrupt anyone if they are not vigilant and so you must always be on your guard,” Adrian said before walking up to the Tech marine.

He slid his bolt pistol out of it’s holster and placed it on the table in between him and the Tech marine saying “could you check this for me brother.” The Tech marine nodded silently and Adrian turned, walking out of the armoury. On his way to the Chapel he passed Sword Brother Lothair. He nodded to his old comrade. The two had fought side by side during The Third war for Armageddon and Lothair was one of the few brothers Adrian counted as a friend. The war against the orks had forged a bond between them, stronger than the bond a marine normally experienced between he and his battle brothers. They had each saved the life of the other and thus each was indebted to the other.

Adrian passed his brother swiftly and entered the Chapel where he then proceeded to kneel and ask the Chaplain’s blessing. The marine replied “you already have the blessing of the Emperor brother.” Adrian nodded and began to pray silently to the Emperor, telling his Lord of every fault he believed marred his soul and asking for the Emperor’s forgiveness.

(Sorry I took so long, my mind's been on other things recently)


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## Masked Jackal (Dec 16, 2009)

"It is our eternal enemy." Siegried said, snapping back out of his trance. "They are our antithesis in every way. It is against them, more than any other, that we need our faith in the God-Emperor. For it is our faith that is pitted against their corruption, not any sword or bolter." Siegfried turned to regard the neophyte. "The faith of the Black Templars is strong, Esel. Do not worry that we will fail. We are the Emperor's chosen, and we know no fear."


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## Scathainn (Feb 21, 2010)

The _Fist of Deliverance’s_ shipboard voxes crackled to life as a servitor from the flight deck began to speak. 

_Service code 118-2067-338-4B. Message Begins. All Battle-Brothers participating in initial boarding actions report to Starboard Drop-Pods 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, and 8. Starboard Pod launch will commence in twenty minutes.

Message repeats. All Battle-Brothers participating in initial boarding actions report to Starboard Drop-Pods 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, and 8. Starboard Pod launch will commence in twenty minutes. End Transmission. The Emperor Protects._

The ship began to bustle with life as Battle-Brothers, Neophytes and Servitors clamoured around the launch bay to load the drop pods. Voxes onboard the ship buzzed on and off as messages were relayed. As the _Fist_ rotated in orbit around St. Cryme’s World, Tech-Brothers and Chaplains paced up and down the drop bays, blessing both the pods and the brothers hurrying to get inside. The drop pods closed with a hiss, one by one, the battle-brothers inside locked in. Overhead, the shipboard vox crackled to life again as Marshal Aximus made his announcement. 

“Brothers, today you drop to St. Cryme’s World to purge this wretched hive of its cancers. As with all planets, your mission is absolute. Heresy is not to be tolerated in the eyes of the God-Emperor, and we are the hammer that will crush this putrid stain of cowardice and sorcery into oblivion. May the Emperor guide your pods so that you may unleash His fury as hastily as possible. Aximus out; the God-Emperor protects.”

Siegfried and Esel Loch: You are in Drop Pod 4 with Squad Johann. Johann, your squad leader, is a grim veteran of the Barbarossa crusade, and his power fist-encased hand waves blessings over you and your comnrades. “Brothers, we drop today to do the Emperor’s Justice. This may be your last moment in the Emperor’s Eyes, so a prayer to Him is ordered of you.” As he listens to your prayers he reclines back in the pod and closes his eyes, awaiting the drop.

Konrad, Godfred Sigismund, Dorian: You are in Drop-Pod 2 with the other Sword-Brothers. Ansgar grunts at you all as you enter the pods. “Now then, brothers…to exterminate this stain from the cloth of the Imperium.” He waits for you to enter. “If you are to join me in this battle I must hear you swear to me and the other sword-brothers.” He stares at you grimly, awaiting your answer.

Adrian: You are in Drop-Pod 1 with Marshal Aximus, Brother-Chaplain Heinrich and other command officers. Aximus is sitting next to you. “I have great faith in you, Adrian. If the Emperor was fortunate enough to gift you with a prophecy, it would please me and the others to hear it now.” Aximus and Heinrich in particular seem keen to listen.

All: What are you doing as you board the pods? What do you say to the squadmates alongside you? How do you respond to the questions asked of you?


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

The Sorrow in Dorian's eyes were hidden as he stood on the walkway above the vastness of the lower areas in the drop pod room. His eyes gazing down towards what lay below him, looking past the pods, the marines, their loyal servants and their friends. He looked past the family he had aboard this ship, and gazed past the hull of it all, looking down towards the planet and all that lurked there. His mind drifting back and forth from his time in the Death Watch... The fifty long years he spent in the service of a traitor haunting him still, what was worse for Dorian was the truth he discovered while serving under the second inquisitor...

"Mommy look! It's a metal man" Dorian could still hear the little girl's words clear as any of his own brother's words, the light in her eyes was a beautiful as the light glinting off of a shrine to the emperor in the dawn of a paradise world. Years later, he still remembered the fate of that very same girl, the look in her eyes as she died. But it wasn't just her gaze that haunted Dorian, it was the gaze of all those he still felt he failed on all of those different planets. 

With a gentle guiding push from a fellow battle brother Dorian moved from his position and moved towards the drop pods, though his pace was slow compared to his other brothers, the flickering candles on the railings, the images of the final fight atop the old tower as the moon rose behind them in the sky flicking across his mind, lost in his thoughts. Most ignored his slow pace and odd silence due to his oath that many were aware he took. Even if they did not understand it. 

Through his hauntings dorian made his way to drop pod 2. Arriving shortly after his other brothers, much of this could be expected from his battle brothers. Hearing the words of of his brother in arms, Ansgar the sword brother. As the others entered the pod, Dorian did not, his head quickly turned, not away from his brothers as if in shame, but to a single candle that had been knocked off the edge of the railing. Moving as fast as his body could take him, he lunged, and snagged the candle before it could fall any decent distance, snagging it between his index finger and his middle finger. Straightening himself out he'd hold the candle in his fingers eyes watching the flicker of light, his other hand moved to shield it from wind as he moved to join his brothers inside the pod, His ears listening to his brother's oaths in earnest. Waiting until they were finished to say his.

Holding the candle in his fingers he'd look to his brothers, and then to Ansgar, His free hand moving to remove his helm, something he hadn't done in many days. As his helm was removed, the hood over his head remained, shrouding much of his face, but the candle gave some light, causing a Erie glint to come off of Dorian's eyes that caught the florescent blue color brilliantly making it seem as if they had a light all their own. 

"Then let me swear to not you, but the Emperor as well, by his light I make my oath, to not just you, but my brothers here as well, and to the Emperor, may he never find us wanting." Taking a breath, his low Gothic was atrocious, seemingly forced, or like a dyslexic trying to read a book aloud. Dorian didn't continue his oath in the common language of low Gothic, but instead in the tongue he was much more fluent in, high Gothic. 

"By the light of our holy (and Immortal) God Emperor of Sacred Terra, And by the eyes of my fellow brothers. I swear to protect the honor of the Emperor and save all those still loyal to him. I Swear to bring his light to the field of battle, and to liberate those who need it most. For we are his chosen sons, We are his children, and our brothers down on this besieged and beset planet need our help. Brothers as we they may not be, but brothers under the emperor they shall always be. I pledge to you my brothers, and I pledge to the emperor, to protect his honor, and save all those I can that are still loyal, even if the payment for such a deed be my life."

With that Dorian waited, still holding the candle in one hand, his helmet in the other, while his gun lay resting on his back thanks to the maglocks. 

for someone of a feudal world, a candle held a great significance, it was more than merely a tool of light and illumination. it also shined brightly with the light of the emperor himself.


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## Masked Jackal (Dec 16, 2009)

It all came so quickly, the call to duty, but he would always be ready. Siegfried mused on this on his way to the drop pod, and when finally he was in there, Johann, his squad leader, ordered them to do a prayer. His entire life was prayer now, in his battle to fight the enemies of the God-Emperor, but the words one spoke to him was just as important.

"God-Emperor. The heresy on this world, it is much. As your humble servant, I will destroy it, may your glory guide my blade." It was a simple prayer, one born out of improvisation on the spot, as was right, in his view. It was whispered, barely even audible. Now, he was truly ready. The sword at his side was ready to bring doom to the heretics. This would be excellent, a true glory for the chapter. He couldn't wait.


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## Goglas (Jun 24, 2011)

Initiate Siegfried quickly made his way through the halls of the _Fist_, musing about one thing on another, and his Neophyte followed. Esel found his master was usually lost in his own head when off the battlefield, but always somehow managed to keep an eye on him and what he was doing, lecturing him just in the right time about just the right thing. _Very suspicious,_ he thought. _I must discover his secret!_​ 
Whilst moving across the bridge, he noticed a Sword-Brother gently pushing another to move forward to their pod, and he smiled slightly. _The master is right, why should I worry? The fact that we have so many veterans with us can only make the mission easier. I am a Templar! Know no fear!_​ 
He repeated what he heard Adrian and his master tell him in the armory, and reached what he believed to be their meaning - he would not underestimate the enemy again.​ Last to enter the pod, Esel just heard Johann's command, but was more focused on the sergeant's power weapon. He's seen such weapons before, certainly, but each time he did they amazed him anew. Such power must be intoxicating.​ 
After taking his place in the pod and hearing his master's prayer, Esel pulled on the book attached to his hip. The chain gave way, and the Neophyte placed the Book of Five Spheres in front of him and opened it to Chapter 6; The Heretic. Unlike his master, Esel believed in formal, traditional prayers and rites, and could always be found with some text, religious or otherwise, on his person. The wisdom of Rhetoricus was one of his favorites.​ 
"The enemies of the Emperor fear many things.​ The fear discovery, defeat, despair and death.​ Yet there is one thing they fear above all others.​ They fear the wrath of the Space Marines!​
Brothers! The Emperor commands us. Dorn guides us. Honor shields us. Fear our Name, for it is vengeance.​ Burn the Heretic!​ Kill the Mutant!​ Purge the unclean!"​ 
With that, Esel closed the book and pulled on the chain once more. It retracted immediately, returning the book to rest on his hip. He placed a hand on his sword, and tapped the hilt restlessly. He couldn't wait.​


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

(OOC. I will be gone for three weeks on friday)

Adrian walked towards his pod slowly, with the black sword in its scabbard on his back. He pulled his bolt pistol out of its holster and racked the slide experimentally. It was in full working order, the techmarine had seen to that and Adrian was glad of it. He may well have need of the weapon in the battles to come. He walked towards the armoured hull of drop pod 1 where Marshal Aximus and Chaplain Heinrich stood in quiet conference. Adrian joined them saying “brothers, shall we cleanse this traitorous rock.” Aximus grinned and nodded while Heinrich was silent.

The three of them entered the drop pod together and Adrian strapped himself in, hearing his battle brothers doing the same around him. Aximus and Heinrich were sat next to Adrian and it was Aximus who asked the question Adrian had been waiting for since he saw them. “I have great faith in you, Adrian. If the Emperor was fortunate enough to gift you with a prophecy, it would please me and the others to hear it now,” the marshal asked. He and Heinrich seemed particularly eager to hear him speak.

Adrian bowed his head as he remembered the visions he had been granted earlier. “The visions were, incomplete,” he said, seeing a frown on the marshal’s face he continued saying “I saw many battles and some of them showed us winning against the foul forces of chaos however, most of them merely showed part of the battle and not the ending. My visions were vague to say the least but the Emperor is with us so surely we will prevail. I know this, not only because we are his warriors, but because I was granted a vision of his Golden Throne,” he said this with all the conviction of a zealot, which he was. The marshal and the chaplain nodded.

“That is good news Adrian,” said Aximus. “Indeed,” Heinrich agreed. Adrian bowed his head in thanks to their words. He then proceeded to speak loud and clearly an oath to the Emperor. The other battle brothers joined him as he spoke the oath; Accept any Challenge no Matter the Odds. 

_“O, Emperor, in wrath rejoicing
at bloody wars; fierce
and untamed,

whose mighty power doth make
the strongest walls from their
foundations shake.

All-conquering master of
Mankind,
be pleased with this war’s
tumultuous roar.

Delight in swords and fists red
with alien blood, and the dire
ruin of savage battle.

Rejoice in furious challenge, and
avenging strife, whose works with
woe embitter human life!
_


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## G0arr (Sep 20, 2010)

*Sword Brother Konrad*

Konrad stood as the doors to the chapel opened. As the black templar turned he saw Champion Adrian. The blessed marine moved to the Chaplain and knelt. There was a quick exchange before the champion was left alone whispering his prayers. Konrad nodded toward his brother, and quietly moved to the doorway.

Konrad moved between the drop pods with long strides. He carried himself with pride meeting every glance with a stern nod. The sword brother moved to his assigned pod. He arrived to hear see Ansgar. The marine was much younger than Konrad, but he had been chosen to lead so Konrad would follow. Long ago Konrad had learned of his curse, and had accepted that men did not truly wish to follow him. Still this curse was one of his greatest assets, especially now. The world below was in the grips of the traitors. Every man would be tested. It would be like Geonide.

Ansgar grunted to each man as they entered. When the final man entered he spoke “If you are to join me in this battle I must hear you swear to me and the other sword-brothers.”

Each man in turn spoke. Finally it came to Konrad.
“As we have each pledged in the sight of our brothers, and under the gaze of our holy Emperor countless times now so do I pledge again,” Konrad cleared his throat before booming his words. “I call you brothers to pledge with me! What is your life!?”
Outside the pod several other voices joined hearing the words.
_“My honour is my life!!_
What is your fate!?
_My duty is my fate!!_
What is your fear!?
_My fear is to fail!!_
What is your reward!?
_My salvation is my reward!!_
What is your craft!?
_My craft is death!!_
What is your pledge!?
_My pledge is eternal service!!_
So you have pledged with me brothers, this I swear to you. I shall not falter, and I shall not fail. Where the shadow of taint darkens the ground I shall banish it with the Emperor’s light. Where the heretic treads I shall wet the ground in his blood. I will not rest until our work is done, and until every soul is avenged. This I pledge and swear to each of my brothers, and to the faithful.” Konrad slammed his power fist to his chest. “Let no man question our resolve. No Pity! No Remorse! No Fear!” Konrad looked back to Ansgar speaking in a normal voice so that all in the pod could hear, “Lead us with honor so that we may cleanse this stain with the blood of those who dare to stand against His will.”


As he finished Konrad nodded to the younger sword brother, and turned into his place in the pod. The sword brother snapped his harness into place and locked his eyes to the doors. Soon they would seal, and when they opened again the brothers would be at war. Memories of Geonide surfaced again. _Not this time_ Konrad told himself _no brother shall falter here, and if I must they will still die loyal._


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## Nicholas Hadrian (Mar 20, 2011)

"Hellfire and damnation!"
Alfgar cursed his ill luck. It was nearly time to go and he had spent the last 20 minutes searching for his bolt pistol. Why did that damned servitor have to run off with it? He cursed again. It was nearly time.
He already knew that Initiate Lothair would give him hell for his tardiness, there was no way he would miss his chance to have at the enemy too.
Thank the Emperor! The drop-pods were still loading, he had time, barely.
The boarding gallery was nearly empty, the men having trickled into their transports, he could see Initiate Lothair standing in the door of one, waiting for him.
"Where in the Emperor's name have you been boy?"
Alfegar muttered an apology that didn't satisfy and sat down beside his master, strapping into the webbing as Lothair glared at him.
Friedrich would have understood. he would have shook his head, grinned and delivered one of his lectures on tactics and strategy and the importance of punctuality in both.
Alfegar missed him.
He sighed an pulled out polishing cloth and looked down at his bolt pistol. he wasn't sure it was right to do this himself, he was no more ordained by the Omnissiah than a babe in swaddling cloth. He looked down, began muttering a prayer to the Omnissiah and started oiling the barrel and trigger. Once he finished he drew his combat blade, and pulled out his whetstone and to begin sharpening it.
Lothair scowled and looked at him as if to say "why didn't you have that taken care of before we left?" he could feel scorn boring a hole in temple. Alfegar hated that look, he hated always being this disappointment, ever since Freidrich had died he had been "The disappointment." he hated it, and by extension hated Lothair, but even more, he hated himself.
He clenched the grip of the pistol for comfort. He knew it by heart, he could feel the raised metal against his palm, bearing the inscription "Ut Imperatoris Dux Vester Scopus Parum Forti."
Lothair would question the wisdom of going after a specific bolt pistol right before the battle, he would decry him for wasting time. He wouldn't be able to understand. No one would be able to understand why.
The doors closed, sealing shut with a hiss of air, it was almost time. He began muttering a prayer to the Emperor.


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

Lothair finished gathering his weapons in the armory, strapping on his power sword and maglocking his bolt pistol to his waist. He was waiting for his initiate, Alfgar when the wall vox crackled to life. 

Service code 118-2067-338-4B. Message Begins. All Battle-Brothers participating in initial boarding actions report to Starboard Drop-Pods 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, and 8. Starboard Pod launch will commence in twenty minutes.
Message repeats. All Battle-Brothers participating in initial boarding actions report to Starboard Drop-Pods 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, and 8. Starboard Pod launch will commence in twenty minutes. End Transmission. The Emperor Protects.


_Damn, where is that boy_ Lothair thought as walked towards the staging area. In the few months Lothair had been assigned Alfgar's teacher, he had realized that the lad was like no neophyte Lothair had trained in the past. Standing in front of drop pod 4, he waited, and waited. Finally he saw Alfgar come out of a bulkhead, and move into the pod. "Where in the Emperor's name have you been boy?" Lothair asked as they got settled. Hearing a muttered response, he simply remained quiet. As he began praying to the emperor, he watched the boy begin sharpening his sword whit a whetstone in the pod. " You have much to learn about the rituals and acts of readiness before battle boy, but under my tutelage we shall make a space marine of you yet" he said. Shaking his head, he listened as Sgt Johann bid them all to offer a prayer to the Emperor.

"Lead us from death to victory, from falsehood to truth.
Lead us from despair to hope, from faith to slaughter.
Lead us to His strength and an eternity of war.
Let His wrath fill our hearts.
Death, war, and blood;
in vengeance we serve the Emperor and the name of Dorn!"

Finishing the prayer, Lothair looked to Alfgar expectantly, waiting for him to offer his prayer to the emperor.


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## Scathainn (Feb 21, 2010)

The air hung stale in Hatarixes Hive, the weight of ancient centuries of urban decay hanging in the morning fog like a heavy sadness. Ancient buildings slowly crumbled with no inhabitants to rot with them, and the streets and pavement was cracked and splintered like a piece of corkboard. A statue of St. Cryme loomed over an intersection, leaning heavily, cracked, and missing a head. Filthy heretical chaos graffiti was everywhere, perverse gang tags mixed in with sigils of dark magic praising It Who Is Pleased.

But the heavy air was soon interrupted by a high pitched keening, faint and far away. The noise began to increase in volume and decrease in pitch rapidly, the noise becoming deafeningly loud and frighteningly deep. Faster than the human eye could perceive, suddenly seven drop pods slammed into the street one by one, cracking the road further with their impact. The doors slammed open with a heavy thud, and sixty Battle-Brothers of the Black Templars emerged from the pods. The seventh pods in particular held the mighty Venerablis Fratre Frederik, his plasma cannon polished to a sheen and his heavy fist flexing in anticipation. 

Marshal Aximus was quick to take command, his honour guard arranged behind him. “Sword Brothers, you will take the van. Frederik will take the rearguard. The rest of you sweep the city between the two. Fan out slowly, and make sure you have every one of your Brothers in your sights. Neophytes, I need you in particular to be aware of your surroundings. We can’t have anything sneaking up on us now, can we?” He smirked grimly as the Fighting Company began to move. Aximus then turned to Adrian. “You’re on your own for now, brother. Only the Emperor knows what your purpose is today. Let us hope that He is kind enough to bl---“

“HERETICS!” a brother cried to the east, and suddenly the air was filled with war. From behind broken buildings and rubble emerged dozens of hidden figures. Heavy autocannons were rotated into position and began unleashing death as the air became filled with the thick _thuk-thuk-thuk_ of the massive guns. Lasfire crackled and heavy bolters roared from the ruins, and the Battle-Brothers responded in kind. “TAKE COVER!” cried Aximus as a Leman Russ rolled around a corner, and moments later the battlecannon shook with deadly rage. A crater was born where there was none before. There was no doubt about it, the battle had truly begun.

Konrad, Godfred Sigismund, Dorian: You managed to maintain your position at the vanguard, hiding behind a broken piece of wall. Enemy fire at your position is light, but as you look over the wall you see a horrifying sight charge towards you. A group of twenty or so warriors are charging at you, their armour adorned with terrifying self-mutilating spines and straps. Grafted to their arms are a variety of cruel weapons; combat blades, chainswords, heavy axes, and one even has a pair of power weapons. Tubes ran in and out of their flesh, pumping their bodies full of intoxicating drugs. Whatever these creatures are, they are out for your blood. Ansgar suddenly roars and vaults the wall, charging shield first, spear leveled. You have no choice but to follow.

(You can’t kill them all in one update, but kill some of them).

Siegfried, Esel Loch, Lothair, Alfgar: You’ve taken cover behind a piece of broken statue. Yours is a battle of long-range, with an autocannon team raining fire on your position. Lasfire hisses and crackles over your heads, and the cackling of horrid cultists fills the air. You grit your teeth and stand your ground, vowing to buy enough time for Frederik to clear the position. At Johann’s orders, the air fills with the sound of your weapons.

(Again, the battle won’t be over in one update.)

Adrian: As the battle rages around you, a flashing figure appears in the corner of your eye. You turn and from behind a ruin emerges a colorful figure. It is a Traitor Marine, heavy power armour glittering with gilded shine and covered with images of thorned vines and perverse rituals. In one hand he holds an enormous whip, barbed and bladed, and in the other a bolt pistol. Upon seeing you, an embedded speaker in his helmet issues forth a howling wail, and he charges, whip twirling dangerously. Defeat him!

(But not in one update  )


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

As the doors to the drop pod opened and Dorian was whiteness to the horrors unleashed on the planet, it's people, and the arcatexture in memorial to the saint, he fought back the rage that built inside him. "Where are the survivors?" He wondered aloud in a soft voice barely audible through his helm's speaker. The marine trudged along, his slow steps there as if to show respect to the dead he passed. Kneeling for a moment near a pair of charred corpses Dorian offered a prayer to the emperor seeing the smoldering teddy of a little girl and the imperial necklace of who he assumed was her parent, charred beyond recognition of whether it was a mother or a farther. As orders were issued however, he snapped to his duty, making a mad blitz to fall into formation at the vanguard. A holy rage fueling him for the moment as he moved to join his brothers. 

Then, all hell broke loose just a few moments later...

Dorian had his back pressed firmly against a peace of wall, silently whispering the song on his heavy bolter. A quick glance over the wall told him twenty foes stood between them and the ability to aid their other brothers who were besieged by heavy weapons fire and terrors unknown. These twenty mutants dared side with chaos and charge at them, but it was what they had attached to them that made the marine question getting in close to them, but then again, he was perfectly happy staying at range, which he promptly did. Standing up he'd rest his heavy bolter on the broken wall and opened up with a wall of bolter fire. The vengeful roar of his heavy bolter's Vulcan pattern second only to the marine's vengeance and rage fueled chanting that was bellowing out of his zealous enraged mouth. 

Dorian wasn't holding back, his finger held onto the trigger tightly as he spewed rounds down range in order to slow the advance of his foes. The codex was rather clear in that, when a horde approaches, throw a wall of lead at them to slow them down to buy time for the assault marines and other melee types to get in the thick of it, though the defiance of one mutant caused Dorian to press on his assault even harder. 

A single mutant of the group, bloated and fat with unholy muscle, arms grafted with chain axes and out the back of his elbow came power weapons. The defiant mutant soaked up Dorian's rounds like a over sized bullet sponge, which only seemed to fuel Dorian's rage, so much so that he removed a hand from his bolter but kept firing it all the same. Dorian's nonstop zealous chanting became more and more filled with a unyielding rage as he drew his bolt pistol in his now free hand, armored thumb slamming back the action as he pulled the trigger to let out a resounding BOOM from the gun's barrel as he loosed shot after shot at the sponge that would not go down. The bolt pistol's rounds sailed through the air, one zipping past the mutant's head, ripping off his ear and part of a spike, another sailing clean through and rending one set of tubes to shreds only to take out another mutant that was behind the bullet sponge, and the last roared out from Dorian's pistol, smashing into the head of the mutant and dropping him once and for all as half of his head was thrown to the sky in a meaty mist. Dorian's other three shots did little damage to the rest of the horde and his heavy bolter needed to cool it's barrels. "RELOADING!" He'd shout through the secure vox channel the sword brothers had to stay in touch with one another, holy rage causing his voice to tremble as he forced himself to remain clear headed. 

Ducking down behind the wall Dorian wrenched on a lever and opened up the shielding "Claws" on the heavy bolter to vent the excess heat, as that happened, he quickly loaded in another six rounds into his revolver, just in time to see the champion Ansgar vault over them and blitz into the horde. Without thinking, Dorian slammed his pistol on his maglock at his hip and vaulted over the wall after the sword brother, heavy bolter still venting heat as he charged head long into battle with the sword brother. But just as they reached the thick of it, Dorian's heavy bolter finished cooling and the machine spirit of The Light Of Liberation displayed a all clear across his helm's read outs.


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

As the drop pod disengaged from it's cradled and began it's descent through the atmosphere, Lothair felt the anticipation of battle hit him full force, as it did every time he found himself in a drop pod. After the jolting stop of the pod, Lothair looked over to his young neophyte Alfgar

"Follow my lead, young brother, and we shall bring damnation to these foul heretics" he said. As the pod opened, he charged out with his squad, his head turning left and right searching for targets. 

“Sword Brothers, you will take the van. Frederik will take the rearguard. The rest of you sweep the city between the two. Fan out slowly, and make sure you have every one of your Brothers in your sights. Neophytes, I need you in particular to be aware of your surroundings. We can’t have anything sneaking up on us now, can we?” he heard Marshall Aximus over his vox. Before he could take another step a voice rang out from the east " HERETICS" and then all hell broke loose. As autocannon rounds roared over his head, Lothair began firing back with his plasma gun, the bright flares of energy reducing several cultists to dust. As he heard Aximus yell for them to take cover, he saw a Leman Russ round the corner. Swearing, he grabbed his neophyte and shoved him into the cover of a broken statue before diving behind it himself. 

Glancing a look over the statue, Lothair noticed one autocannon team had targeted him and his squad in particular. As the leader of his squad Johann ordered them to return fire, Lothair looked over to Alfgar and nodded before he stood and began unleashing hell with his plasma gun. As he burned down several cultists that had been firing at them, he felt a round slam into his shoulder pauldron. Roaring with rage, Lothair fired his plasma gun at the autocannon team managing to kill one of the foul heretics before he was forced to stop firing in fear of overheating his weapon. Dropping back into cover, he checked the pauldron that had taken the round. Luckily, it was a glancing shot, and his holy suit of armor had held. Muttering a prayer of thanks to the emperor, he readied his plasma gun for another volley of fire, a smile coming to his face as he saw the venerablis friedrich moving to clear the position.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Adrian stood straight as bolter rounds flew around him. Several struck his armour but he ignored them, seeking a worthy foe among the enemies arrayed against them. A flash of colour made him turn his head to see a huge Chaos marine emerge from behind a ruin. He emitted a wailing shriek and twirled a whip that he grasped in one hand while his other held a bolt pistol. Adrian’s visor gazed impassively at the servant of Chaos. “Come and die loyalist scum,” the traitor roared. That did it. Adrian turned to face the Chaos space marine and drew his bolt pistol. He raised the weapon and fired several shots that impacted on the traitor’s breastplate and knocked him back.

Adrian began to run towards the Chaos marine and drew his sword while sprinting. Holstering his bolt pistol he clasped his sword with both hands. The traitor lashed out with his whip but Adrian rolled under the blow before standing and continuing his charge. The traitor lashed out a second time and the whip slammed into Adrian’s breastplate. The Chaos marine wasted no time and lashed out again and again, driving Adrian back. The Black Templar gritted his teeth against the agony that seared through his veins and swung his blade at the whip. The Black Sword slashed through the whip leaving half a metre of it on the floor. It writhed as if in pain and Adrian did not waste the opportunity.

The Black Sword swung again and slashed another metre of the whip off. He dived forward, coming up in front of the Chaos marine. He lunged and the blade pierced the traitor’s pauldron and shoulder. The Chaos marine roared in pain and slammed his bolt pistol into Adrian’s helmet. The weapon did little damage to the artificer armour but it served to daze Adrian. The traitor kicked him away and ripped the Black Sword out of his shoulder. He then walked towards the fallen Templar and stood over him, razing his bolt pistol to finish off the Emperor’s Champion.

Adrian roared and, drawing his dagger stabbed the weapon into the traitor’s ankle. The razor sharp blade, driven by all of Adrian’s hatred and anger pierced the armour and stuck in the Chaos marine’s flesh. Adrian ripped it free and stabbed again, this time twisting the blade in the wound. The Chaos marine yelled in pain and Adrian grabbed his foot with his free hand, shoving it off his breastplate before the Black Templar and Adrian leapt to his feet, retrieving the Black Sword from the place where it had been thrown. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ansgar leap over the wall behind which he had been hiding and charged a group of mutants. “Emperor protect you Ansgar and may he guide your blade,” Adrian voxxed. He changed to an open vox channel before speaking again “fight well brothers, the Emperor watches you this day.” Adrian turned to the traitor and fired, the shots slamming into the Servant of Chaos’ breastplate before charging the Chaos Lord anew...


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## Masked Jackal (Dec 16, 2009)

Finally, a battle proper. Siegfried had gone through many training regimens since he had been fully initiated into the Black Templars, and now, he would be able to prove himself worthy of the title of Initiate. Keeping Esel close at hand, he spread out with his brothers, listening to his orders over the vox, and keeping within eye-sight of another battle-brother at all times.

There was no doubt about it soon. The enemy was ready. Autocannons and...a larger boom, a Battlecannon perhaps. Soon he noticed a line belonging to one of the autocannon teams nearest to them. A broken statue, perhaps of some long-dead saint, provided them with cover from the withering fire.

It was only a few seconds, but Johann gave the order to fire. Siegfried turned, raising his bolt pistol and opening fire on the heretics. There were many of them, but, two things ran positive in his mind. The first was that they weren't as numerous as the damnable Orks, and the second was that now he had righteous fire in his hands, and a steel shell to protect him.


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## G0arr (Sep 20, 2010)

*Sword Brother Konrad*

The drop pod rattled as it fell. Inside Konrad stood in the harness staring at the hatchway. He felt the exhilaration. Falling toward the world below the sword brother was at war. For the past two centuries he had descended like this, on the wings of fire like a holy tear to bring ruination to the foes of man.

Impact. The hatch dropped and as he had done countless times before Konrad strode clear of his harness. Dirt and dust hung heavy in the air from the impact of seven pods. Smoke rose from several fires within the hive between the massive structures. A quick glance told him there was battle here. There were dead laying in the open. The sword brother glanced toward them. Civilians most likely proof enough that there were no innocents left here. A short distance away another of the brothers halted, and knelt near a pair of corpses. Before there was a chance fro him to approach the Marshal spoke. Konrad swept forward. Seconds later war reached them.

Konrad spun as a series of las shots pinged harmlessly against his armor. The bolt pistol aimed at a man standing plainly in view covered in markings of chaos. “Fear not,” the sword brother said aiming at the traitor, “For his reach is sufficient, and his wrath supreme.” A single shot barked out. A corpse collapsed as the explosive shell sprayed a nearby wall with blood.

A broken wall was all they had for cover when heavier rounds began to fire. Konrad stood back from it as others appeared to slide against. He peaked over and saw them. It was a mass of charging forms. They were men once and could have been brothers, but now they had become something else. Spines and spikes jutted from their armor among swirling symbols carved within the plates. Their weapons appeared to be grafted directly to them making hands and arms into tools only set for war. Tubes spread things into their flesh to fuel their rage. 

Behind his helmet Konrand’s face twisted into a snarl. “Heretics,” he said flexing the mighty powerfist _Malleus_. He was already prepared to strike over the wall and charge when he looked to Ansgar. The younger sword brother appeared to be gauging the strength of their foes.

“May I be His hammer,” Konrad whispered adjusting himself for the charge to come, “to strike the foes of Man. May I be His sword, to rent His foes asunder.” The heavy bolter roared to life. Trained muscles reacted without thought. Konrad charged over the wall powerfist crackling with energy. “May I be His fist, to smite His foes from the face of the galaxy,” He was shouting now as he charged. “No Pity! No Remorse! No Fear!” The swordbrother cried firing his pistol into the mass.

A pair of bladed arms lashed out against heavy armor. There was a screech as they tried to cut through the heavy armor, but were unable. The response was quick and brutal. A heavy fist smashed into the thing’s chest, then the field reacted. Armor exploded inward sending shrapnel in to the nearly liquidized organs of the once man. Blood splashed as the body crumpled in half, as the swordbrother continued his charge.

The next foe was better prepared. It had a chainsword grafted in place of its left hand. It swung the blade wide to strike at the Black Templar’s legs. Konrad found himself abandoning his attack. The powerfist quickly lowered as the teeth approached. There was a loud pop as the two weapons impacted. Several of the spinning teeth shattered as the power field reacted. Konrad twisted in the last seconds bringing his shoulder forward. The two slammed into one another. They rolled as one mass. The sword brother could smell the drugs as tubes and pipes were torn from place. His face was still twisted in rage as he rolled. The veteran warrior used the momentum to propel himself up. Behind him the chaos warrior cried out. When the blow cam it tried to parry, it tried to halt the strike. The weapon arm raised over it as the fist descended. The impact sent a shockwave up the arm. There was a squeal of pain as the arm broke, and bent back into the warrior’s face. The helmet slammed into the ground. As the thing tried to recover it saw the words, the last thing the twisted thing would ever see. 

“Thou Shalt Kill,” Konrad whispered as he pulled _Malleus _out of the crater that had once been a head. As he looked to the next foe his voice boomed out, “In the name of the Emperor let no foe stand!”


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## Nicholas Hadrian (Mar 20, 2011)

*Neophyte Alfegar*

The drop pod careened to earth.

It was a not unfamiliar experience.

Alfegar could feel his hair lift, taking on a life of it's own as velocity and zero gravity began to give life to things, before shuddering suddenly, a feeling like hitting a wall as they entered atmosphere.

As the reverse engines kicked in and slowed their descent from deadly to merely boneshattering, Alfegar felt his ears twitch, like a black hound.

The doors crashed open, he could hear orders being shouted, but did not, or chose not to hear them.

Then he heard a voice cry. "Heretics!" it said.

Alfegar charged forward, the report of his pistol barking like a hound of war.

He bowled over a heretic, throwing him to the ground and finishing him with a quick thrust. Shells tore up the dirt next to him as he scrambled for cover. He felt his master's hand rest on his shoulder.

Lothair stood and fired several more blasts, waiting to let his weapon cool. That always had been a detriment to the plasmagun, thought Alfegar. It kept the enemy out of reach.

As he watched the Initiate drop to the ground Alfegar felt his blood boil.

Freidrich would not have been such a coward as to hide behind rocks while his enemies laughed. He would have charged with the Emperor's fury in his heart, shredding them _en masse_ as they fled.

He felt a pang as he realizd once again how much he missed his old Master.

Not for the first time, he wished he could join him in death.

Alfegar stood up, preparing to make his suicidal charge. Not caring if he lived or died, running as fast as his superhuman feet could carry him. Straight toward the enemy tank.

Let Lothair follow if he desired.


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## Mindlessness (Dec 22, 2009)

Felix ran from the now broken form of the drop pod, crashing his superhuman bulk behind the ruins of the statue. The constant thump of an autocannon rained on their position, coupled with the snap-hiss of lasfire. 

Felix was breathing heavily, he was pinned. The autocannon had targeted him, and was slowly whittling away at his cover. He snarled, heretic cowards.
Felix stood and shot, spraying their position with bolts from "The emperors fist" running and diving behind a nearby rock.

A spark of pain flashed through his thigh, looking down he descovered the autocannon had grazed his armour. He laughed, his first confrontation in his fresh powerarmour suit, and he had been hit.


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## Scathainn (Feb 21, 2010)

As the sounds of war filled the air, the brother-Astartes of the Black Templar set upon their grim work. The gunfire of the heretics was answered by the fury of the Templars; two autocannon teams were utterly obliterated in quick secession by Iron-Brother Frederik’s mighty plasma cannon, and the entrenched Crusader squads were picking off heretic weapon positions as fast as they emerged. Meanwhile at the fore of the battlefield, Marshal Aximus, Brother-Chaplain Heinrich, Adrian, and the Sword-Brothers were in the thick of the fighting, brawling with drugged-up Slaaneshi berserkers and a particularly lethal-looking traitor marine of an unknown legion.

“Brothers!” cried Aximus over the secure vox-channel. “Advance! We must gain our ground even if our very lives depend on it!” As he finished speaking, he swung his relic axe in a wide arc, severing a cultist’s head from the rest of his body. “I SHALL COVER YOUR ADVANCE, BROTHERS!” roared Frederik, his plasma cannon firing at maximum speed and his power fist smashing the barricades the weak cultists cowardly hid behind. With a roar the assembled host surged forward, weapons blazing and chainswords revving in anticipation of the coming conflict.

Konrad, Godfred Sigismund, Dorian: With your combined efforts, the majority of the berserkers have been felled, save for five of the most dangerous. Two of them appear to have been vat-grown Ogryn labourers at one point, but they are now twisted beyond recognition. They roar and lunge after Dorian and Godfred Sigismund, the massive buzzsaws grafted to their arms revving dangerously. The remaining three berserkers are all covered in cyst-like purple growths filled with addictive chemicals, which ooze and burst when hit with gunfire or blade, and massive claws covered in deadly poison extend from what was once their arms. With horrifying screams they lunge towards Konrad and Ansgar, and one of them manages to graze Ansgar’s arm before continuing the fight further. “Let us purge these vile creatures from the gaze of the Immortal Emperor!” roared Ansgar before slamming his shield into the face of one of the creatures.

(Kill ‘em!)

Siegfried, Esel Loch, Felix: With a roar you charge from behind your broken cover, weapons blazing. As you streak across the battlefield like black blurs of the Emperor’s vengeance, a group of cultists behind a broken ruin in your path realize their doom is upon them. In vain, they rise up from behind cover and begin bombarding you with las-fire, but their fear makes them inaccurate and you only take a few minor wounds. Their sergeant, a grizzled warrior tattoed with perverse symbols, barked words in a crude slang, and the cultists (who you now notice to seem to mostly be members of some sort of crude gang) nervously draw their close-combat weapons. Siegfried cannot help but laugh at the futility of it, and with a roar you descend upon them like rain upon a field.

(You’re like a knife through butter at this point, demolish them!)

Lothair, Alfgar: As Alfgar ran across the battlefield screaming a bloody warcry, the battlecannon from the massive tank roared, and not two feet away from him the screaming shell landed. Bits of broken cobblestone and rubble erupted forth from the ground like an earthen gyser, and the young Neophyte is flattened to the ground. With a yell of vengeance Lothair ran forward and pulled the initiate to safety before the tank’s second shot obliterated where the young warrior once stood. Panting, you both are now in cover not five feet from the Leman Russ, and it appears the gunners have lost you. “Brother Lothair!” voxxed Brother-Chaplain Heinrich. “Now is your chance! Destroy the tank!”

(It will take some clever thinking but you can do it!)

Adrian: The traitor marine stumbled backwards from the force of the gunfire in his chest, but with a backhand to your face sends you sprawling across the ground. The traitor marine laughs manaically and begins to chant in a strange language. As you watch in horror, the marine’s skin begins to bubble and froth with sorcerous power, and his form begins to twitch and spasm. His armour stretches far beyond its normal size and his whip fuses with his arm as his face fuses with his helmet to form a vile parody of a beautiful woman, mouth lined with needle-sharp teeth. The once-fearsome Champion of Slaanesh has become possessed by some foul demon, and with a shrill cry in the Warp-tongue it charges you, fleshy whip flailing with new vigor.

(This will be a hard fight and it’ll rough you up, but you’ve got it beat. Just use that sword like it was meant for!)


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## G0arr (Sep 20, 2010)

*Sword Brother Konrad*

There was a howl. No, Konrad quickly corrected himself, there were three. His eyes locked on the three once human things charging toward them. Their malformed bodies were covered in purple knots of flesh. But these growths were not the sword brother's immediate concern. The claws replacing their hands were what his mind had registered. As the things charged their claws flexed and moved as viscous liquids dribbled to the ground. Their screams could have turned a man's blood cold, they could have shattered the strongest man's will, but the Black Templar were not mere men and the Sword Brothers had been forged in countless battles where horrors such as these were commonplace. 

Konrad widened his stance and raised his left arm. "From this left hand do I bring vengeance," he said in a normal tone aiming. One of the things howled again as it charged and the sword brother replied. The bolt pistol barked to life. The first shot send blood spraying from the thing's lower torso. The second shot forced another howl from the thing as the left pelvis was pulverized. As the thing tried to run it shifted its weight, and found a leg with no support, and the twisted thing faltered. The third shot caught it in fall rupturing within its chest, obliterating a lung.

The berserker fell into a twisted mass of limbs and flesh. It howled as it hammered into the dirt. Several of the growths ruptured spraying the ground with blood and chemicals as the thing slid forward. Its eyes turned up when it tried to recover and searched for its foe. There was a gargled yell as it pushed an arm below itself, but it would never pull itself up. A shadow filled its view as the ground around it seemed to rumble. It was unable to form words, it was unable to scream out again. What it saw was worse than any daemon. A mind unable to feel pain or fear was suddenly filled with a mixture of terror and hate. Part of the shadow reached out. The last instant of its life was filled with nothing but emotions long lost to the drug haze.

Konrad heard the crunch as much as he felt it. The twisted thing's skull crunched beneath the heavy stomp reinforced with nearly a ton of holy armor and muscle. He left the body twitching behind as the sword brother launched himself toward the others who had charged into Ansgar several meters away. As he ran Konrad heard the battle cry, _"Let us purge these vile creatures from the gaze of the Immortal Emperor!"_ "No Pitty, No Remorse, No Fear!" Konrad roared in reply. 

Ansgar slammed his shield into one of the thing's. His spear thrust forward into the creature's body. As the blow was struck the other thing lashed out to him. There was a distinctive shriek of metal slashing along ceramite, and it was past. The thing spun as it prepared to lash out at the Sword Brother again, but there was no strike. Something else rushed forward hammering the berserker in the shoulder. It lashed out. Bladed fingers found only the reinforced armor of a Black Templar’s pauldron. The poisoned blades skipped across the ceramite before lashing through air. A metal circle hammered against the left shoulder as it tried to lash out with the other hand. There was a white hot feeling of ecstasy and pain as somthing exploded. As the thing bathed in the sudden feeling something else filled the drugged mind. It was foreign, and numbing. It looked to this new attacker as a massive iron hand gripped its arm. Another burst of pain, but the ecstasy was replaced with a foreign feeling. The drugs kept it from feeling all that it should, all that it now wished to feel. It was blocked from feeling the terror of its own demise, the fear of the thing over it, but it did feel the hate of being unable to understand all else that filled its mind.

The berserker lay fighting against its own body as Konrad pinned it to the ground beneath an armored foot. Behind him Ansgar finished his foe and approached. There was an almost calm around them. 
"Why have you not killed it?" 
Konrad turned. "It has laid blows against you," he said pointing toward the marks on his brother’s arm, "And only from your right arm can vengeance be truly given." 
Konrand pulled his foot from the heretic’s chest. It flopped and howled with two unusable arms as it tried to stand but was unable. A single thrust from the power spear, _The Iron of Predjudice_, ended the twisted thing's existence.

"We need to get to an Apothecary," Konrad reported with a flat tone as his brother commander turned, "It will be best to ensure that foul thing left no cursed poison behind." Konrad knew his own armor had not been breached, but he was unsure of Ansgar’s. As he took a step toward the battle whatever calm had come shattered, and the Sword Brother found himself once again at war.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Adrian watched in horror as the Champion transformed into something far worse. Once the horrific transformation was complete it laughed, a laugh oddly out of balance with the body of the thing. It was high and melodious. It charged him suddenly and the beautiful face was changed into a bloodthirsty mask in an instant. The whip flailed but Adrian ignored it and held his blade before his helmet. He bowed his head and whispered a prayer to the Emperor. The daemon drew ever closer and it shrieked in anticipation. It never saw him coming…

Adrian waited till the last moment and suddenly darted forward and to the right. He moved like quicksilver and slid beneath the flailing whip, coming up smoothly and stepping forward, lunging his sword forward. The tip pierced the armoured breast plate of the former marine and it shrieked again, this time with pain. He withdrew the blade and it spun in his hand, creating a wall of flashing steel between him and the daemon. He sheared the rest of the whip from its hilt but the daemon merely dropped it and raised its bolt pistol. It fired several times but Adrian knocked all of them aside.

It snarled with displeasure and dropped the pistol, opening its maw. A blast of pure warp energy smashed into the whirring blade and flung it away, smashing into Adrian’s chest plate and sending him hurtling backwards. The daemon was upon him in an instant. It knelt on him, ripping his helmet off and leaned in close. “Look into the face of a daemon and despair,” it hissed. Adrian gazed into its eyes and smiled grimly. The daemon opened its mouth to destroy him with another blast of warp energy but just before it did so Adrian thrust his dagger into the side of its head shouting. “The Emperor is my shield.” The daemon recoiled backwards and its weight left his body. Adrian flipped to his feet and darted in, slamming his fists into the daemon’s chest. The huge blows drove the daemon back 5 paces but then it stopped.

It laughed again and leaned forward; ignoring the punishing blows he rained against it. Its eyes became black and its maw opened to reveal the same blackness. Another laugh as it gathered its power into single blast that would destroy him. In that instant Adrian kicked his sword up from where it had been lying on the floor, caught it in his hand and thrust the blade into the daemon’s mouth. Energy flooded his body and blackness loomed but with a final scream of hate he shouted “be gone foul creature.” With that defiant shout he rammed the blade further. White light exploded from the daemon’s body and for a single moment he was a black silhouette against that cleansing light but then it exploded, hurling him backwards.

Adrian lay in the dirt, his armour dented and consciousness slipping away from him. With a final breath before the blackness claimed him he whispered “The Emperor guide my way…”


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## Nicholas Hadrian (Mar 20, 2011)

Alefgar turned to his master, feeling a large power-armoured arm protectively covering his chest.

His heart was fluttering like a small bird in a cage. Maybe he wasn't quite so ready to die yet. 

He looked up again at Lothair's helmet, he was sure he was going to get yet another lecture from him. He was sick of it.

He wiggled free of the Initiate's arm and stood up, brushing himself off. He turned to look at his master, waiting for some signal from him. Alefgar rested a hand on a krak grenade at his belt. He was ready for the tank and signaled as much to his master.

[OOC]: (Angel, contact me ASAP plz so we can figure out what we need to do.)


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## William Siegfried (Jun 25, 2011)

OOC: Alright I posted from the second last Update to the current one XD. Hope this is enough to get things back up and going 


IC:

The battle had only just begun and yet it seemed and felt as though Sigismund had been fighting longer. Ever since their Tactical drop they had been in constant combat against the foul forces of traitor Marines and guardsmen. However the sword brother’s faith in the Emperor kept him strong as he pushed on, putting his sword skills to work as he ripped through the arms and armour of the many Chaos Cultist’s. So far Sigismund had managed to keep his head, just as his other brothers who were fighting hard to maintain their ground, despite the overwhelming odds packed against them. This battle was proving to be harder than Sigismund had thought, but he did well to dismiss his worries or thoughts. He didn’t feel fear but his hate for the Chaos legions was great, however with how many ballistic rounds that kept hitting and ripping apart the steel the sword Brother was using for cover to hide from the rounds that would otherwise rip him apart. Following through his with training Sigismund returned fire as best he could with his bolt pistol while his right hand held his blade tightly in his grip. 

Sigismund was starting to get annoyed with all the bolter rounds being shot down towards him and his brothers which prevented any real movement. It wasn’t looking all too good, but for the most part Sigismund wasn’t worried about it, he was to focused on returning fire, aiming and praying to the Emperor his bolts would hit their marks. Sure enough he had scored a number of kills; not that it effected the enemy lines any. Sigismund cursed lightly under his breath as he shot at the entrenched traitor guardsmen. They were proving an annoyance to him and as far as he was concerned, he was just about ready to make a charge to break the bastard Traitors lines. However he kept a cool head, taking a deep breath as he glued his back against cover. “Emperor guide me…” He prayed softly under his breath before coming out of cover once more to unleash a few bolter rounds into the Chaos lines. No sooner had he done so however did he notice a large force of Warriors charging towards them. Sigismund bit his bottom lip, before he brought his sword up. When one of his brothers made the war cry of the Black Templars Sigismund raised his blade high and let out a roar just as the others did before he charged forward.

Sigismund charged forward firing his bolter pistol as he did so while his right hand readied a powerful swing towards the first Warrior that came within range of him. As the two forces charged each other and grew closer Sigismund let out a mighty roar as he swung around his power sword cutting clean the head of the first warrior. Sigismund quickly recovered and swung his blade up just in time to deflect the coming attacks. “Die heretics!” Sigismund roared as he swung around sending his blade into its next target. The Chaos warriors started to swing and jab at Sigismund who continued to evade, duck, and dodge as though he were dancing. His bolter was now at his side now allowing him to use both hands to perform more effectively in the melee. Sigismund was loving this fight so far now that things were on even ground once again for him. 

Sigismund charged forward once more slamming hard into one of the warriors who lost balance and fell to the ground which allowed the Templar to make a quick dive before effectively ramming his blade deep into a warriors gut before ripping his blade through the warrior before quickly kicking a warrior who came in close to him. Sigismund grunted as he was slammed forward. He twisted his head around quickly in time to see the coming blade before he rolled onto his back to kick the warrior away to buy himself some much needed time to recover. He was being overwhelmed but for the most part he was enjoying the fight as he quickly stood to his feet, his hands gripping the hilt of his blade, while his eyes looked at the foes that charged towards him, screaming and roaring. His dance was not over yet as Sigismund quickly took a step forward allowing his shoulder plate to get under the arms swinging a blade down towards him, which allowed him to quickly rammed his shoulder into the warrior before twisting his body quickly in time to avoid another strike that impacted the stunned warrior rather than the Templar that quickly grabbed hold of the now dead warrior and pushed the lifeless body into the four remaining warriors fighting him. Sigismund grinned lightly as he took a few steps forward coming into another attack before quickly ducking down low before stepping forward while his hands swung his blade through the gut of one of the warriors cutting his gut open before slashing his blade around in time to deflect another on coming blow. This time however he was quickly knocked down by the sheer force of the attack. 
So far the battle was now just starting to heat up as the Sword Brother stumbled to avoid another attack before countering with his own cleaving his attackers head clean from his shoulders, before vaulting himself back and into one of the other warriors stunning him for a moment allowing Sigismund to quickly twist around and grip the warriors neck with his left hand, before ripping the screaming traitors throat out with great force before rolling off the body and back to his feet to kill the last of the foes focused on him. The last Warrior charged and send a downward swing and a power swipe with the other weapon in his hands. Sigismund quickly slammed his blade into the first attack before quickly bringing his shoulder plate down in time to take the blow from the second attack that had stunned the Templar for a moment, sending him to the bloodied ground below before another attack came this time aimed for his head. Sigismund pushed himself back in time to dodge the attack and the second, third, and fourth attacks before he brought swept his leg around tripping the metal warrior onto his back before Sigismund threw himself onto the warrior, plunging his blade through the traitors armour, chest, and heart. The Warrior, using all his strength and life he had left gripped Sigismund’s neck tightly while he coughed up blood. Sigismund grimaced slightly as some of the blood coughed covered his helmet. “Die traitor.” Was all Sigismund said to the warrior as he quickly twisted his blade around, effectively killing the warrior. 

Sigismund pushed himself up from the lifeless bloody corpse while also pulling his blade from the bloody hole in its chest. Panting softly Sigismund took a moment to look around his power armour was covered in blood and dirt, but for the most part he was pretty happy. He had managed to secure himself some breathing room, and he had purged a number of traitors in the Emperor’s name. Sighing light he brought his sword back up in battle ready stance before rushing out from the small area he had been fighting alone in in time to see 5 powerful warriors charging towards his brothers. Sigismund re-joined his brothers side, before suddenly they charge at him and Dorian. Sigismund looks at his brother before he turned back to face his foes. “For the Emperor!!” Sigismund cried as he danced forward into melee.
This battle was going to be harder and would take every ounce of strength he had left to get through it. Dancing forward Sigismund swung his sword downward and towards one of the two that had charged him and Dorian. The massive putrid warrior mearly stepped into the attack was more or less stunned slightly before recovering quickly, while Sigismund was soon covered in a mix of blood and chemicals. Sigismund jumped back a few feet and wiped his helm clean. “This isn’t good…” The Sword Brother mumbled softly before continuing with, “Emperor guide my blade and aim.” As he quickly pulled out his bolter pistol and aimed down the sights. He took steady aim just as his other brother had, and unleashed a number of bolter rounds into the charging warrior that seemed to shrug off most of the damage to its body until one of his bolts hit and ripped a good chunk of the warriors head off, sending it to its knees, screaming in pain as it pushed itself forward. Sigismund breathed softly as he moved forward quickly before he quickly brought his blade down upon the warriors head cutting it from the warriors shoulders. Blood and a mix of other fluids began to pump out from the neck as Sigismund moved back in time to see his brother had just finished taking down the other. However his eyes go wide as he looks up and towards the Daemon that now attacked his Sword Brothers. Sigismund quickly brought his sword up and began to charge towards it, but was quickly stopped by a sudden swing from a traitors blade. Sigismund ducked down into a roll before turning around in time to deflect and counter another attack. Sigismund’s blade ripped through the attacking warriors gut cutting him in half. Sigismund panted tiredly after making such a powerful swing. He was amazed at how much melee he was getting into but at the same time he loved it. 

Shortly after killing his attacker he turned around to see the Daemon had been slain and two of his brothers lay either dead, or unconscious. Sigismund ran towards them to check on his brothers. They were fine, but were out cold. Sigismund lifted his head up to see another of his brothers was being tended to. “Don’t worry brother the Apothecary will be here soon to take care of you. Until then I’ll guard you until he arrives.” Sigismund reassured his sleeping brother Adrian as he stood to his feet and turned back towards the battle. He looked around seeing how his fellow battle-brothers were now finally starting to push the Chaos Legion back or at least it looked as such. Taking a deep breath in he took a few steps forward away from his wounded brothers. The battle had only just begun.


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

Firing his plasma gun over and over at the autocannons pinning his battle brothers, Lothair was shocked to see his neophyte, the young Alfgar, running full speed at the Leman russ bellowing a bloody warcry. Hearing the boom of it's main battle cannon, and seeing the shell erupt not two feet from Alfgar, Lothair was enraged as he saw the neophytes body flung from the explosion.

Erupting from cover with a roar of vengeance, Lothair sprinted to Alfgars body, wrapping his arm around the neophytes chest and dragging him back as the tank fired again, barely managing to get him out of the explosion. As he checked Alfgar over for wounds, and found him unhurt, a voice he recognized as Brother-Chaplain Heinrich sounded over the vox.
_
“Brother Lothair!”_ he said _“Now is your chance! Destroy the tank!”_

_"Acknowledged"_ he replied, before turning to Alfgar. Seeing the boys hand drop to his krak grenade, Lothair was struck by an idea. _" Alfgar, we will take the tank together, wait for the cannon to fire again then I shall burn the hatch off. Be ready with your grenade."_ he voxed. Feeling the ground shatter from the leman russ cannon, he bellowed "_NOW_" before sprinting towards the leman russ. Climbing over the side of the heavy tank, which he saw was inscribed with several carvings of the eightfold star, he primed his plasma gun and fired several times into the main hatch, watching with satisfaction as it melted. "_Throw the krak"_ he yelled at Alfgar, before diving from the Russ.


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