# Rights of Ascension: Imperial Action thread



## luthorharkon (Nov 2, 2007)

No one will be allowed to join in during this thread as the sign-up has closed.

IC: _The numerous brutish craft could be seen in the distance, many being fired down by artillery, including Marco's own. This was just the vanguard though and the true hordes of traitors were yet to be unleashed._


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## chrisman 007 (Jan 3, 2008)

Squadron Leader James 'Biggles' Bigglesworth sat in the cockpit of his Thunderbolt. Mechanics, other pilots and all sorts of other aircraftsmen were running around, preparing for the battle ahead. He was bored out of his mind. He hated this waiting, and there was nothing to-

A cannon round from a hostile ship slammed into the Scion of Glory's hull. The ship reeled and the scramble siren wailed. 

"Righty-oh, lets get this started."


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

Agmemnus looked to the heavens through the shimmering void fields as storm bird and other unidentifiable landing craft made their way through the atmosphere. His heart ached at the sight for he knew deep down what it meant. His brothers were his brothers no more. They had turned from the Emperor and trod the path of heresy...the path of the traitor. Such words would have been scoffed at in better times. None would dare think that the mighty astartes cast in their primarch and their Emperor's image would have sunk to such levels of treachery. 

The thunder of the many defense cannons filled the air with their rumbling roar. Standing near the gate of the first wall of the Imperial Palace, Agmemnus could feel the massive energies being unleashed by the powerful weapons of war even through his terminator armor. The ground shook with each fiery report of their massive maws. He watched many of the flying craft obliterated by the cannonade, turning those hit into flaming comets burning their way to the ground. Even he see it was not enough. 

Hovering in orbit over the planet of Terra, the cradle of mankind, were multitudes of warships crewed by the most powerful weapons of war created by the Emperor... That his own sons had turned against the Emperor filled Agmemnus with a vile and twisting hatred. The thought turned his stomach as more and more of the landing craft made it to the ground. Staring on helplessly, he wished that he could see the end of this through will alone.. If he had such power, Agmemnus knew that he would use it. 

Waving his warhammer at the skies, he snarled "Die!". As if hearing his command, the sky lit with fire as the massive defense guns fired again, vaporising a small clutch of inbound ships.

Turning, he looked to those warriors who held the walls with him. Clad in their golden yellow armor, their banners unfurled, whipping in the gale storm brought up by the thundering guns, the gathered Imperial Fists looked like ancient gods of war. Each knew what would happen if the walls should fall. Each knew the price that would be paid should they fail. They stood shoulder to shoulder, unmoving. A thin yellow line stretching down the length of the great wall. He knew deep down in his soul they would hold to the last..that each would die before letting these traitors step one foot into the Imperial Palace. The thought filled his heart with pride. Unconsciously he stroked the scar running down the side of his face. To those that knew the old chaplain it was a sign. He was preparing to speak and when he spoke mountains moved and the heavens fell from the skies...but more importantly hearts were swayed, souls were steeled, and minds were prepared. 

Reaching to his belt, he removed his battered and scarred helmet. Turning it, he looked into the grim rictus-death mask searching for what he must say. How did one such as he ask his brothers to do the unthinkable..to raise arms against those they counted as equal..as brother. In the brief moments it took to lock the helm down, Agmemnus found his answer. He who would turn against his brother was brother no more. He was the most vile of vile. He who would do such a thing had no honor and in having no honor was damned to reap the consequences of his actions. 

Taking up his shield, he marched down the line, heading towards the great armored gate that protected the palace. As he passed, those astartes holding the wall turned and knelt. When he reached his destination, he faced the gathered warriors. Raising his voice, he began...

"BROTHERS! Today we stand at the crossroads! A great and terrible path lays before us..."

Over the sound of his sermon, the great guns roared again.....


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## killmaimburn (Mar 19, 2008)

Fierizard hunched over the controls of his ship, exhorting the machine spirit within to greater effort. He feared that he would already be too late. As he snapped out of the warp, he cursed in horror as he witnessed the full extent of the treason, the massed fleet of ships surrounding Terra. Analyzing the blockade, he discovered a blind spot in the enemy's formation and sped his ship towards hit, successfully evading their sensors. Heaving a sigh of relief, he pressed his helmet down upon his head, checked the promethium stocks within his armor, and whispered to the machine spirit of his armor, commanding that it should not fail him. He stepped into his drop pod and strapped in.
"Release pod and engage thrusters on my mark. 2, 1, MARK!"


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## Mordeth (Aug 26, 2008)

Wishing the full wrath of the Emperor upon the weaklings that had turned to heresy, Gareth walked around the battlefield, killing deamons and chaotic marines as he went, driving the warp from the minds of his loyal troops. 
Terra would not fall! Not as long as he had strength in his limbs, and breath in his body!

"Rise up, fellow soliders! The day is far from over, and we got heretics to purify!"

All arund him, troops redoubled their efforts, driving the chaos back, making the ground flow red with deamonic blood.


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## Fenrakk101 (Feb 23, 2008)

Scrin hated his job. Four months of brutal training, all for what? He was lucky enough to be on Terra, but he'd rather end up on the wrong end of a Power Sword than maintain his current post, somewhere in a no-man's-land.

OOC: sry but I cannot post often 11 hours of school, 8 hours of sleep, and 4 hours of being SOL


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## Initiate (Mar 25, 2007)

Rult gasped as the sky was lit with fire when the traitor ships started to drop down from the heavens. The gasp turned into a snarl as he stormed out into the hives. In the clearing in front of the palace, he could see the aircraft clearly as the rocketed towards the palace. His ears were flooded with the sound of anti aircraft guns as several carriers were shot from the skies. Rult sprinted to one side as one such wreckage crashed where he was sitting. A few injured space marines climbed out, of the Death Guard legion. Rult quickly lopped off their heads with his power sword. 

In front of the palace he could see his men of the 88th lining up, ready to fight.


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## thomas2 (Nov 4, 2007)

Maricus emerged from the gateway. His ten man squad of Custodes lined up perfectly behind him, Guardian Spears ready.

War was here.

The heretics would attack, but nothing they had could match the Custodes, he would make sure of that,

Strolling forward he took in the other Imperials and signs of distant battle effortlessly, as they began to march towards the foe.


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

Chaplain Agmemnus studied the coming horde with a praticed eye. While he had been elevated to the rank of chaplain he was still first and foremost an Imperial Fist. His training in siege-craft had been an important part of his life before he had been honored with the task of seeing to the morale of the legion. He watched the ebb and flow of the traitorous Army and astartes as they made their way towards the walls and the Imperial Palace. Not everything was going their way, he could see. Several Imperial army regiments stood between the traitors and their final destination and they seemed to be giving the rebels hell. He wished he could be there. Part of him rumbled at being posted to the walls. He knew the importance of holding the ramparts but his heart yearned to be in the thick of the fighting, swinging his ancient hammer, the _Iron Fist_, and bringing justice to those who had turned their hearts from the Emperor's will.

His eyes followed the line of Horus' followers as they made ready mortars and cannons to lay siege to the Emperor's greatest monument in the distance. Word had already reached Agmemnus of the fall of the star port to the east. While it could be said Horus was mad to turn against his father and his fellow primarchs, few could argue with the precision at which he waged war. Horus was known as a shrewd tactician and this fight would see his terrible genious stretched to it's limits. Agmemnus himself would make sure of that if he had anything to say about it but the loss of the starport was a major setback. There would be no reinforcements from that quarter and in the coming days it's loss would be felt.

Deep in thought, Agmemnus had failed to notice the runner that had been sent for him. A polite cough roused him from his reverie. Turning, he found himself face to face with another Imperial Fist, his helmet slung under one arm and his head bowed in deference to the old chaplain. "Yes?" Agmemnus asked.

"Master Chaplain, Captain Malloc requests the honor of your presence at the headquarters on parapet seventeen."

Nodding, Agmemnus shouldered his shield and locked his hammer into place. "Lead on Sergeant", he replied. He knew it had to be important for the captain to send an astartes to call on him rather than one of the many Imperial army runners who passed orders up and down the walls. Undoubtedly the request had required someone who's trust was above reproach which made Agmemnus wary. 

As the two made their way down the length of wall, Agmemnus found himself deep in thought once again. While he believed those who remained in the Imperial Palace were loyal, one could never be too sure in these dark times. The depth of the betrayal was known to have reached even the techno-magi of mars with many of the ancient titan legions battling amongst themselves on the barren, rust-stained fields of Mars herself. The Imperial Navy and Army were not immune to treachery either. Reports had flooded into Terra upon the revelation of Horus as traitor. Long had he held sway as Warmaster in the Emperor's abscence during the long, great crusade to unify mankind under the banner of his father and many had foolishly followed him in his descent into heresy. 

It still mystified the old chaplain that in this age of reason and enligthenment that those who had witnessed the awe-inspiring will and might of the Emperor would turn against him and bring down all the triumps he had given mankind. There had even been whispers of heathen god-worship and daemomancy. Such things had no place in the Imperium of Man the Emperor had forged with his blood, his sweat and his tears. 

He found himself looking to the massed regiments of Imperial Army arrayed before the walls in serried ranks. He knew that even their numbers could not hold back the oncoming tide of heretics that made their way towards the palace. Heretic...the word was strange to him. He knew of it. Years spent in training had opened his eyes and his mind to many new things including the ancient works of man from their darker, benighted times, when man had foolishly believed in gods and such things. Words like heretic and daemon still felt wrong when he voiced them...sometimes when he even thought them. It was odd that such trivial things as words could be so consternating. Agmemnus knew the reason of course. In the wake of the Emperor's grand crusade, such irrational notions had been quashed and replaced with the cold reasoning of science and fact. 

He soon found himself standing in the bustling command post of the palace's defenders, captains Malloc and Tarsion nodding as he entered. It was a scene of controlled anarchy. He likened it to a ant hill or a bee hive. Imperial commanders, the gathered captains of the Imperial Fists and those of the White Scars and Blood Angels all passing orders back and forth over holomaps and charts as they discussed how to prepare to repel the invaders. From an adjoining room came a booming welcome. "Hail Agmemnus! It is good to see you my son!" Agmemnus turned to face the direction the voice had come from and immediately removed his helm and knelt. "My lord Dorn."

"Bah..stand. There is no need for bowing and scraping with times such as they are." Feeling sheepish, Agmemnus rose and made his way towards his beckoning master.

"Now that we are all here, I will begin. The Imperial Army stands at the base of the wall ready to repel the traitors." Agmemnus could hear the controlled rage as Dorn spoke the last word. The word was thick with contempt and vitriol. As the briefing went on, Agmemnus soon found his primarch had plans for him and upon hearing them, a smile crossed his scarred face.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The sound of las and bolter fire filled the plains with their racious squeels and booming reports before the Imperial Palace as Agmemnus made his way through the Imperial lines to the front. Accompanying him were the warriors under the command of Captain Malloc, two hundred of the finest warriors to bear the proud clenched fist of the Imperial Fists. The air was thick with the stench of blood and cordite as men and astartes bled and died under the watchful gaze of the Emperor's fortress. 

His shield held at his side in his left hand, he stopped and aimed the combi-bolter he had been granted with his right hand and fired. The weapon roared as the bolter round found it's mark, ripping a rebel army trooper in two as the explosive shell detonated inside him. After a short march Agmemnus found himself at the forefront of the Imperial lines. Captain Malloc began issuing orders to his men and with the practiced precision that only astartes could accomplish they fanned out taking up a firing line. Dorn himself had seen the same thing Agmemnus and the rest of the Fists had seen. There would be no holding the enemy back. Reports had stated that titans from the Legio Mortis has landed and were making their way to the front. The Imperial Army for all it's might could not stop those ancient mechanical war gods. Dorn had put forth a plan of a strategic retreat, the combined forces fighting their way back to the walls making the traitors pay in blood for every inch they took.

Agmemnus took his place in the center of the line along with captain Malloc. Activating the improved external vox mounted in his suit's helm his thundering voice roared over the din of battle.

"Brothers! Aye brothers! Be you astartes or army conscript you who stand here are my brother! Look before you at the gathering hordes! See how they call and scream and blaspheme! They call upon the Warmaster in the place of their Emperor! Such foolishness cannot be allowed to continue! We will give them no succor! We will give them no mercy! We will take from them everything and leave them to lay dying on the soil of this world they have come to conquer! STAND! HOLD! Remeber that you do this not for glory! Nay, nor for honor! You do this not for personal gain! You do this to protect the cradle of mankind and the Light of reason the Emperor has brought to these benighted times! Aye brothers, STAND! HOLD! FOR DORN! FOR THE EMPEROR!"

From the line came an answer. At first those hundreds who had been in earshot of the chaplain's fiery oratory took up his cry. Then thousands, then tens of thousands. Each man raised his voice until every warriors' voice roared the same cry. Those upon the walls began as well as the cry reached them. 

As the heretic's force reached the lines the found themselves greeted with the words roared over and over. Over the sounds of bolter fire and lasfire, through the fog of cordite and fyceline and promethium, through the roars of massive defense cannons and siege-craft the chant could be heard over and over. 

"FOR THE EMPEROR!"

And man and astarte, loyal and traitor, died as the forces smashed into each other under the watchful gaze of the Emperor...


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## Mordeth (Aug 26, 2008)

Roaring in unison with the army, he lifted his weapon in praise for the revered Chaplain Agmemnus. He was truly a gifted man.
Turning back to the battle, he shouted in sudden anger as 2 lords of chaos was making their way towards him, cutting a swathe of death and destruction in their wake. Ignoring the psyker, he started charging towards the red-armored heretic!


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## thomas2 (Nov 4, 2007)

The golden line formed up.

Only a single squad was devoted to this area, but it was enough. Their job? To blunt the enemies elite troops. To break the leader, break the morale. The mighty Astartes and numberless guard could deal with the rest.

They advanced towards the front, guardian spears bowed down before them as they sought battle.

A great warhost of Imperial Fists was visible in front of them, such a mighty force had no need of any such aid. He turned to his left. Imperial army units were being slaughtered by traitors. Traitors... So unfamiliar a word. But say it they must. And fight it they will.

"Custodes, let us end those of the lost Legions that plague our foot-soldiers."

The long charge began, their near perfect bodies powering them towards the Space Marines, identified as the World Eaters legion.


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

Agmemnus' job was only beginning. He had steeled their hearts and boulstered their courage but it would take more..so much more to defeat the foe that they found themselves facing. Captain Malloc's steady voice could be heard through the sounds of the raging fire fight as he led the Imperial Fists into battle. The sound of weapons firing in unison each marked by his order to fire beat a stataco tempo. They were Fists and their training in the rites of battle gave them an advantage over many. Imperial Fists were not given to brazenly firing away at the enemy..oh no. Each warrior knew that volley fire could break even the most intractable enemy and they were using it to a gruesome effect. The bodies of hundreds of rebel soldiers exploded as bolt and missle and lasbeam burst them like ripe melons. It was a glorious sight. 

The earthen bulwarks that had been placed to give the defenders cover were working well for now. Agmemnus knew soon it would not be the case. As if to make a point, the screeching sound of incoming artillery rounds could be heard. The first shells fell well short of the Imperial line, wreaking havoc amongst the heretics' own forces. The second volley came closer as those manning the fell horde's artillery corrected their aim and began walking their explosive charges closer and closer in an attempt to break the solid line of loyalists. He'd wished there had been more time to prepare a better defense. "My armor for some rockcrete", he found himself thinking.

Out of the corner of his eye through the raining mud and smoke he could see the Emperor's personal guard, the mighty custodes marching into battle against the now hated World Eaters. Motioning to the devastators behind him, Agmemnus ordered them to cover the advancing warriors. Captain Malloc nodded in ascent, deferring to the older chaplain's wisdom. The great weapons thundered, sending high explosive rounds into the charging World Eater line. Bodies corkscrewed into the air as they detonated amongst the traitors. It would be all they could do to aid their custode brethern as the main heretic line had reached their position.

With a great surge, the heretics pushed their way to the top of the bulwark..only to find themselves greeted with massed bolter fire. Raising himself from the improvised firing step, Agmemnus stormed into the traitors, those warriors who had been granted the honor of guarding him following close at his heels. The remaining Fists held their ground supporting the chaplain's headlong charge with practiced ease, sending round after round into the swirling melee that had formed around Agmemnus and his bodyguard. 

His hammer smashed left and right, pulping those fools who found themselves too close to the raging chaplain. He raised his voice in contempt, the improved external vox turning his shouts of retribution and vengeance into mighty roars. Agmemnus called upon those who stood before him to stop this madness before it was too late. To the surprise of many of the heretics some did turn their weapons on their fellow traitors, the fog that had infected their minds burned away by the chaplain's oratory.

The respite was short-lived as a warrior in armor the shade of blackest night strode amongst their ranks, reinstating order amongst the traitors. "SILENCE FOOL!" the ebon armored beast roared. "The time of the Warmaster is at hand!"

Charging, the Sons of Horus chaplain crashed into Agmemnus, raining blows from his powered mace over and over. Anger filled Agmemnus at the sight of a fellow chaplain supporting the cause of the rebelious warmaster as he attempted to regain his footing against the repeated blows. Snarling, Agmemnus brought his shield around in a shimmering arc and slammed it into the brow of the death-masked traitor. The ceraminte shattered under the force of the enhanced strength behind the blow. Bringing his hammer down, Agmemnus smashed the weapon's glowing head into the squirming traitor, the resulting release of energies tearing him nearly in two. The battle ebbed as the rebels fell back before this mighty warrior who had killed one of their traitorous champions. Agmemnus knew he could break their spirit now. What he could not do with hammer and bolter he could do with but a casual gesture.

Agmemnus turned, waving for one of his guards. He passed his hammer and shield over. In full view of the traitorous horde, he reached down and grasped the broken body of the Sons of Horus chaplain. With a great heave he raised the trophy above his head and roared.

"See now the power of the EMPEROR! Quail in fear traitors! For even the mightiest of your champions will fall before the Emperor's might!"

As he finished his call, Agmemnus tossed the body into the milling heretics. It was all that was needed to send them rushing back into their lines. The Imperial Fists lined the defense point, firing their bolters into the backs of the retreating traitors, reaping more confusion and death amongst them. 

Taking up his shield and hammer, Agmemnus took up the chant once more, punctuating each cry with a clanging report of his hammer's haft against the shield, the blows ringing with the clarion tone of a bell.


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## luthorharkon (Nov 2, 2007)

_Marco stared down onto a site of upmost epicness.
The very tip of the traitor horde had landed (The Chaos leaders warships still hanging high up in the atmosphere).
For a moment he wondered whether the full enemy force would actually need to land on Holy Terra but the Imperial gunner immediately dimmed the thoughts from his mind.
The task at hand was of much greater importance.

As he paused to wait for the servitors to reload his weapon Marco took the time of gaze down at the various scenes of battle. A giant black armoured astartes was lifting a traitor champion into the air. He noted that the hero was an Imperial fist, as well as a revered power armoured chaplain.
Directly in front of his battery below the great palace walls the Custodes tread closer to the enemy. Charging through the guardsmen, and releaving them from the fighting. He did not dwell on the subject long though, as the first World Eaters descended from the warp torn skys.
He shot down many drop pods but plenty more kept coming, each one crrying another load of deadly cargo._


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## thomas2 (Nov 4, 2007)

As the Custodes reached the battle it became clear what had occurred. The Imperial army units had left themselves no room to manoeuvre- when the World Eater reached their lines they had to hold or let the rouge marines round the Imperial Fists flank. Determined not to let down such noble warriors the guardmen poured into the combat, shooting impossible due to the crowded nature.

The Custodes would right that mistake. A volley of fire from the Imperial Fist lines hit those traitor not in the thickest fighting hard, and Maricus was grateful for their help. The Emperors finest would not be swamped at once with such intervention.

Maricus grabbed a injured high ranking officer and immediately talked to him.

"Regroup your warriors. The Custodes will hold your retreat. Give us what covering fire you can when it is done."

The flustered and relieved looking man barked out orders.

"Get the hell away from these red devils, the gods in gold will be covering our retreat and keeping those Astartes backs covered."

Maricus talked to the man once more.

"You talk of devils and gods?"

"It's just morale talk, they've all heard some nasty rumours, and this is all that keeps them fighting."

Maricus was somewhat satisfied, and turned to the fight. Disciplined retreat order were carried out, some squads firing into the now thinned out combats to keep the foe at bay, while others ran for their lives over corpses and rubble.

"Custodes! These warriors we face have abandoned Imperial rule and Imperial discipline. Show them no mercy, only death!"

The last of the guard slipped past, some stopping just short to pour las blasts into the foes.

The guardian spears bowed down to horizontal.

Maricus aims at the targets, and fired. His squad followed, explosive shells gutting even the Adeptus Astartes.


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## killmaimburn (Mar 19, 2008)

Fierizard stolidly endured the rumble of the drop pod as he plunged through the atmosphere. Immediately after impact he blew the hatches and ran out in time to observe the noble custodes gun down a squad of the world eaters. Suddenly a swirling vortex of energy shimmered into being on the flank of the noble custodes. He could sense the foul energies of the empyrean as the first wave of daemons emerged. Running forward, he unleased a conflagration upon the daemons with all four of his heavy flamers. As the daemons, fell, scorched black, a second rank marched out through the portal and he flung himself against them, lashing out left and right with his power fist and flailing his servo arms in all directions. He felled the daemons by the dozen, but still they came. Realizing he may have underestimated his enemy, he again released a massive torrent of flames as he steadily retreated before the onslaught of daemons. Opening his helmet-vox, he requested aid. 
"Anyone that can hear me, this is Fierizard Salamandris, a techmarine of the salamanders legion. I am attempting to hold back a swarm of daemons, but I will be overrun soon without aid! Can any unit lend me assistance?" His voice was calm and measured, precise despite the implications of what he said. Hearing nothing, he prepared to sell his life dearly by overloading the plasma reactor powering his servo-harness...


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

Static filled Agmemnus' vox bead. Between the pops and squeels he could make out little. Something about a Salamander techmarine and daemons. Daemon... The word made him start. Suchs things had been spoken of in whispers but Agmemnus had yet to see one. His eyes caught a terrible sight as he took in the battle. He stared in disbelief at the ugly purple bruise that had formed from nowhere. He had never seen anything like it before. A rift of dark, coruscating energy had ripped it's way into the material plane. More startling were the things coming from it. Malformed and misshapen things they were. Agmemnus knew in an instant that these must be daemons. 

Calling for his bodyguard and two more squads of Fists, Agmemnus marched with haste towards the beleaguered Salamander. For the first time he cursed the bulky nature of his armor. Pushing the armor's fibro-bundled muscles to their limit he found his pace quickening as he pounded off towards the hapless techmarine. Would he reach the Salamander in time? He hoped so. "It would be a pity for such a brave warrior to meet his end", Agmemnus thought. He was glad for one thing. The sight of a hulking black-armored behemoth with three squads of astartes in tow was enough to make anyone in his path clear out of the way.

Locking his great hammer to his side, Agmemnus unholstered his combi-bolter and took aim. The range counter on his HUD counted down the distance between his men and the daemons pouring from the open rift. There was a soft chime alerting him that he was in range. It was all he needed. Depressing the trigger, both barrel spat round after explosive round into the churning melee of daemons that surrounded the Salamander. As the distance closed, he slammed the smoking combi-bolter back into his holster and unslung his hammer. With a mighty roar, he smashed into the daemons' flank, the momentum from his charge sending some reeling to the ground. Agmemnus' glowing hammer flicked left and right as he set into the daemons. He was rewarded with the stench of sulphur with each banished daemon as their bodies were destroyed by his powerful blows.

"BROTHER!", he shouted, "You are not alone!"

Bulling his way through the daemon horde, he found himself standing side by side with the Salamander. He could see that even with his reinforcements, the ever-growing tide of daemons would eventually wear them down. Something had to be done to close this terrible thing but he did not know how to do it.

"Headquarters! We are faced with some form of vile witchery. It is a portal of sorts, a gateway from which the malefic pour through! Can we close it? Wait! I see something coming....By the Emperor!"

Two great blood-covered hands came from out of the portal, grasping each side of it. A bestial snarl could be heard as a massive, horned head pushed it's way through the glowing gateway. Powerful wings and a muscular, bronze-plated chest followed as the terrible creature from the warp stepped out onto the ground for the first time in millennia. The golden aquila on his armor began to glow fiercely as the beast made it's way from the gate. 

Wasting no time the ancient bloodthirster stretched it's wings and took flight. It ignored daemon and astartes alike as it left them behind to search for more fitting prey. "Agmemnus to all units. Something has emerged from the portal...it..it is huge. Be wary!"

The vox channel was filled with chatter as more and more rifts ripped their way into existence. Agmemnus prayed that someone could find a way to close the damnedable things soon or all would be in peril..


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## Mordeth (Aug 26, 2008)

Meeting the heretic straigth on, Gareth felt the blow up to his shoulder as his hammer met his opponents axe. Using the incredible strength of the blow to his advantage, he swung around and hit the warrior square in the chest, sending him flying, but a sudden pain in his left shoulder made him stumble. The heretic had used his axe as a hook, and breached Gareths shoulderpain as he was sent away.

"Better not underestimate this one," he breathed.

Suddenly a vox message broke in, saying something about witchery and portal. Looking around, searching for the 'portal', he discovered just that. And what he saw there nearly struck him senseless. Something... huge and vile was coming out...
Hearing a roar, he turned back to his opponent, who was charging again.

"better finish this quickly!"
With a howl of just rage, he raised his hammer and charged again, clashing with the heretic, exchanging multiple blows over seconds. They were even, but just barely. He had to think of some plan, or the outcome would be uncertain.


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## killmaimburn (Mar 19, 2008)

Before he engaged the self-destruct, he saw a massive terminator-armored chaplain charging forward towards the portal with his squad. Relief coursed through him and he fought with newfound hope. His hope turned to dread and then shock as the massive bloodthirster emerged and took flight. He was not too shocked, however, to fail to notice the tide of daemons. Gathering himself, he joined the circle of imperial fists and fought harder than ever before, proud to stand alongside his brothers.


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## chrisman 007 (Jan 3, 2008)

(OOC: Sorry, I'm very busy at the moment, and can't post)


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## luthorharkon (Nov 2, 2007)

*THE GREAT BLOODTHIRSTER RISES.
Khornes mightiest daemonic champion has risen, just as the Imperial Fists have been pushed to breaking.*



_Through his vox Marco heard the call of retreat, "BACK TO THE WALL! BACK TO THE WALL! DEFEND THE EMPEROR WITH ALL YOU CAN!" read out by the master of the palace guard himself.
He had been dreading it but the gunner would not give up yet. As the entire Imperial line began to fall back and dig itsel towards and within the actual wall another bastion appeared.
"The Blood Angels!"
In the very ditance was something that altered his rush of joy, turning it into ouright terror. Far in the distance a portal opened. Some sort of chaos manifestation. Before Marco's experiened eyes (still firing at the enemy as he watched) a great red daemon dragged itself out of the tear in the atmosphere.
The Bloodthirster._


*THE GREAT BLOODTHIRSTER RISES.
Khornes mightiest daemonic champion has risen, just as the Imperial Fists have been pushed to breaking.*

OOC:This would be a great opportunity for your character to witness the titanic battle between blessed Sanguinus and The Bloodthirster of Khorne.


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## chrisman 007 (Jan 3, 2008)

Biggles looked down on the planet bellow. It had a strange beauty to it, a smoggy, beige jewel suspended around the sun. He wondered it was like before humanity became as great as it became. What a strange thought. He dismissed it, and banked his Thunderbolt towards the planet. 
"What's the story?" barked his radio. It was one of his subordinates, impossible to tell who because whoever spoke into the damn thing sounded like a robot. 
"We're giving close support to the Imperial Fists. They've really had a beating," replied Biggles, whist preparing to enter the Earth's polluted atmosphere.
"Wilco."
"The sight that greeted him was horrifying. Smoldering ruins, small yellow figures falling back, and blood red ons persuing from the west. Biggles dived down and raked the advancing troops. Chaos marines, advocates of Khorne if he was correct. Several fell from the withering heavy bolter fire. Ack Ack started up, sending up blossoms of flak with a rhythmic 'pom pom, pom pom.'
"This is Bomber squadron 859, we need an escort to take us to make a few holes in the chaos advance, mind leading us?" crackled the radio.
"Wilko, 859, this 266 'bolt sqaudron, we'll make sure they don't touch you."
"That's jolly kind of you."
A formation of six marauder bombers came into view. along with 2 hell blades coming down on them, heded towards the core of the chaos advance. A Thunderbolt blasted a hell blade out the sky, only to be jumped by it's mate. A sputter of grey smog exploded from the engine, yet the plane seemed to be well under control. It flew towards the victorious Hell Blade and with a terrific crash the two planes slammed into one another. The two craft spiraled into the ground, the thunderbolt being no more than smoking wing fragments. 
"Thanks for the help 266, don't think we could'a made it with out you, bombs a-" There was a blinding flash of light, and a huge sore appeared in the sky. The altimeter exploded, the radio made a static noise and caught fire. Instinctively Biggles grabbed the fire extinguisher and tried to put out the flames. What on Terra could've done this? Wait, that was a bad thought: chaos was on Terra: anything could happen. Biggles tasted blood and he felt his nose running. A nose bleed. That only meant one thing. Daemon. 
Huge claws ripped at the gaping sore, and the malevolent creature designated as the Bloodthirster reared it's ugly head. Chaos minions, as if spurred on by the sight of the terrible creature. The Imperial Fists were broken: even though they were Space Marines, he couldn't blame them. Red marines, must of been Blood Angels took their place, trying to fill the breech. By the time Biggles looked back at the terrible warp creature it was fully out of it's psychic womb. It raised it's axe in triumph, and let out a mighty roar. The creature slammed its axe into the bomber formation, ripping all six craft asunder. There wasn't even any fragments. Smoke was filling the canopy, more instruments must have caught fire. "*cough* everyone," said Biggles hopelessly into the transmitter. His radio was broken anyway. "*cough cough* concentrate your *cough* on the daemon! We *cough* must fell it!"


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

Agmemnus was weary. The unending tides of daemons were taking their toll on even his super human constitution and as the time went on more and more of his brothers fell. He marvelled at the prowess of the Salamander techmarine. He, like all of his brethren, was dauntless. It was said that a Salamander was slow to act but when he did it was done with great resolution and strength. From what Agmemnus had seen so far he could only agree. The stoic astarte burned his way through wave after wave of hellish daemon until his flamers were empty and then he set into them with power fists. With each passing moment, though, they found themselves forced farther and farther back from the purplish gaping sore that continued to pour forth more and more daemons.

Above him, Agmemnus could hear the forces of the Imperial Navy battling it out for dominion of the skies. Sparing a brief glance, he saw them corkscrewing through the air, weaving a terrible dance of fire and death. Just as he felt his strength finally giving in explosions lit the ground around him. By some miracle of chance the navy bombers flying support dropped their deadly payload on the hell-spawned portal, obliterating it. The respite was welcomed as Agmemnus and his fellow astartes tore into the remaining daemons with all the strength they could muster.

A voice cut through the vox chatter. "BACK TO THE WALL! BACK TO THE WALL! DEFEND THE EMPEROR WITH ALL YOU CAN!" The retreat had been ordered. It was worrying that it had been called so early but Agmemnus understood. Even as his weary forces made their way back to the Imperial lines he could see that it had not gone well for them. More and more, the heretics poured from the skies and the daemonic portals had only exacerbated the situation as those that still remained continued to vomit forth more warp-spawn. Once there had been a time in his younger days that such a call would have been greeted with ire and spite. Years of war had forged the hot-headed youth that had been Agmemnus into a warrior that realized battle was not for glory but for duty and sometimes that duty required retreat.

Agmemnus hooked the ancient hammer to his belt and slapped the shoulder pauldron of the Salamander in a friendly fashion. "Brother! That was most magnificent! What is your name Salamander? I am Agmemnus of the Fists. Would you care to accompany us brother? We would be most honored to have such a great warrior with us."

Before the Salamander could answer, another portal ripped it's way into existance high in the air. From it came another of the winged terrors they had seen before. A shudder passed down his spine as the great beast roared. He could see that in it's coming it had destoryed those bombers that had saved he and those with him. He watched as a fighter, smoke pouring from it's cockpit and engines heading for the ground. His heart ached at the sight of such brave warriors dying in such a manner. He vowed that such courageous acts would not go unknown. 

In the distance he could see his fellow Imperial Fists making their way back to the gates with the precision only they could achieve. He watched as they covered the retreat of the army forces, holding back the traitors so they could make good their escape. Agmemnus realized they would need to move quickly to keep from being cut off. His fears were soon allayed as the legion of Sanguinius entered the fray. Agmemnus raised his fist into the air and roared a greeting to those who had moved to relieve them. Through the smoky haze, Agmemnus could make out a Blood Angel captain making his way towards their position.

"Hail brother!" came the call from the Blood Angel. "Emperor be praised!"

"Hail indeed brother!", replied Agmemnus with a relieved laugh, "It is good to see you!"

The Blood Angel stepped forward and extended his hand. Agmemnus took it in a warrior's grasp, taking his forearm and shaking it heartily. "I am Agmemnus of the Fists. By thunder I thought that we were surely doomed." The Blood Angel laughed. "Not quite yet brother! I am Captain Calisartes and my men and I have come to render what aid we can. What is the situation?"

With a sweeping gesture encompassing the field, Agmemnus nodded to him. "As you can see brother, all is not well. They have called upon malefic creatures of the warp. Their forces have increased incrimentally with the addition of these daemons. It took the power of a bomb to close the one we found ourselves faced against."

Captain Malloc's stern voice came over the vox, stopping Agmemnus from continuing, "Lord Chaplain, we make for the gates as ordered. We wish that you lead us."

"Aye brother. I am coming and I bring with me a friend. Prepare the brothers for I shall be there soon!"

Agmemnus faced Calisartes. "Luck to you brother! The Emperor's will be done." 

"Aye, for the Emperor! Fare you well Agmemnus of the Fists", replied the Blood Angel.

Turning to those who had survived the battle with the daemons, he motioned them forward. "Onward brothers. We must make all haste to rejoin our comrades!"


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## chrisman 007 (Jan 3, 2008)

Biggles felt the control of his areoplane waning. He was not getting shot down this early in the fight. In desperation Biggles grabbed a small handkerchief and covered the flames from the radio. Rallying his efforts he headed for the daemon, raking it with autocannon and bolter fire. The bullets did nothing, pinging of its hard flesh and powerful daemonic shield. A flight of chaos hell blades could be seen on the horison, also seemingly spurred on by the daemon. "Oh great," said Biggles observing the craft, "As if our troubles aren't bad enough." The Hell Blades opened fire, and Biggles turned to return his fire, when he heard a noise all pilots dread: a soft click indicating that his guns were dry. The bullets from the Hell Blades slammed into the thunderbolt, and the wing flew off, and the plane started to spiral into the ground. Biggles instinctively smashed open the canopy and hurled himself out, he started to fall towards the ground. In his head he counted 4...3...2...1...A grav chute blossomed out and he floated towards the ground. Rather peacefully, he floated towards a group of marines: a Fist, a Blood Angel, and one he didn't know. He hit the ground. "Good morning sorry to drop in."


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## thomas2 (Nov 4, 2007)

Maricus continued to fire, cases steaming out of the ornamental yet deadly weapon. While many bolters were case-less it appears the artificer who crafted his weapon had a taste for the less clean and modern, and Maricus was grateful for that.

He counted every sound that announced another hitting the pile, it guiding him to when each target was neutralised. Another bolt shot blew out the whole chest of a blood-crazed marine.

The Custodian line was so perfect, their aim so true, their weapons so deadly. Corpses coated the entire ground, but the enemy didn't even care for the Golden figures that gunned them down except to kill them, and cared even less for the guardsmen whose few lucky shots went though their power armour.

The animal savagery of the foes had drawn them close, and the guardian figures prepared the meet their charge, still firing. Bolt pistol rounds bounced off their well crafted armour, though only a few meet them as the foe missed or gave up firing altogether so often.

The first that meet Maricus was immediately gutted with his Spear, only to be followed by another that Maricus was forced to power his weapon's back end into, smashing straight through his unarmoured head.

His squad followed in much the same way, one of the foes pushed forwards even after being impaled and managed to break into the armour of one of the Custodes. This Custode immediately head-butted him, and retracted his weapon leaving him to die.

"How are you Brother?"

"He failed to touch my flesh. It is no problem."

Maricus became aware of some sort of warp disturbance near where they were, but he also saw marines heading to deal with it.

Concentrating on the World Eater attack Maricus was suddenly set upon by what was once a Veteran Sergeant, but had become something else.

The insane mad-man leaped straight over Maricus's weapon just as he finished the last other warrior. He brought down two chain-axes at once, forcing Maricus to use every inch of his strength and even the boost of his power armour to lean back and bring back up his weapon. His squad mopped up the last remains as he struggled with this warrior. Blocking with his spear he sent the foe tumbling over behind Maricus, only for him to lash out near instantly. Smashing one axe away the other bit into his chest armour. For a moment it struggled into the armour, but it had been forced in too fast and jammed, now impotently weak.

Smashing his great body weight into the foe Maricus knocked him back enough to raise his Guardian Spear again. The first shot completely destroyed his left shoulder-pad, the next volley detonating against his armour, sending small chips of adamantium and ceramite in all directions.

Stunned the berserker could only look on powerlessly as Maricus plunged in his weapon, and twisted, cruel hisses and crackles from the power weapons field filling his senses.

This foe had been finished, but the guardsmen were retreating. Looking to their aim Maricus realised the marine had fell back to the wall, and the guard followed.

Running towards this new position with his squad, observing the air-battles, Maricus noticed a small group of marines and a Imperial navy pilot. With no inflexible objective Maricus and his squad began to move towards these to see how they could help.


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

Reaching down, Agmemnus gingerly lifted the pilot from the ground by the cords attached to his grav-chute. "What have we here brothers?", he noted as he helped the pilot to his feet. "One of our brave pilots it seems. Come little brother! We must make for the gate before they close it on us!", Agmemnus roared with laughter as he and the remainder of his small force began to make their way towards the gates. "It seems that I find reinforcements falling from the sky now!" 

Where it had come from, he did not know. With the world trying to end around him, the sight of the Blood Angels had improved his choler. The battle still raged, the Imperial Palace was still beset by the minions of the Warmaster Horus, and daemons were still clawing their way into the material plain by the minute but he could not help himself. Maybe it was because he and his warriors were no longer alone in the fight. Maybe he was suffering from battle fatigue.. He dismissed the latter with a snort. He was an astartes and more to the point, an Imperial Fist. Such things did not affect him. Agmemnus merely nodded and went on. Terrible days lay ahead. Soon there would be a proper siege and he knew that there would be little joy to find when those times came.

The sound of rattling armor and weapons made the old chaplain turn. The custodes seemed to be heading in their direction and Agmemnus called for the gathered warriors to wait for them. Waving his hammer, he greeted the golden-clad warriors. "Hail Brothers! Would you care to join us as we make for the gates?"

"Come lads! Let us be done with this place. We must find our place on the walls lest these traitors find it unguarded! We can't have that, now can we!"

Agmemnus knew that if they chose to the custodes would join them. Without waiting to see if they did, he and wards made for the gate. He paused long enough to watch as the Blood Angels primarch, Sanguinius took to the skies on mighty white pinions. The sight made his heart swell. Pointing, he said, "Truly if there were ever such things as angels, he would be one!"

Continuing on, Agmemnus found his way to the Imperial Fists who had bolstered the Imperial line. Of the two hundred, barely half remained. The battle had taken it's toll on them. None had escaped unscathed. Apothecary Damos moved through the survivors, checking each in turn. Agmemnus noted the apothecary carried a full complement of gene seed in his pouches. That the seed would be returned to the legion was a poor substitution for those warriors they had come from but it was still a small victory for the Imperial Fists. Those warriors that had fallen would be remembered and their seed would be passed on to a new generation once the time came. If the time came, Agmemnus thought. 

He could feel melancholic thoughts leeching their way back into his mind. "No", he muttered. He would not succumb to such dark thoughts. They *would* win. There could be no other outcome. Even if the heavens tumbled and the rock on which Terra had been founded was sundered they would win. 

And like a summer storm that wells up and then dissipates, Agmemnus found his clouded mind clearing as the thoughts were driven away by the welcoming sight of his fellow Fists. It was good to be back amongst his brothers. Though they were battered and beaten they were unbroken. That was the way of the Imperial Fist. Stubborn and tenacious, and to Agmemnus, the true children of the Emperor. As he thought the words, Agmemnus rebuffed himself for the arrogance and pride that filled them. Such things were acceptable for another astartes but not a chaplain. No, pride and arrogance led down the path of damnation. The evidence of such folly could be seen all around him as he took in the battlefield.

His reverie was broken when Captain Malloc greeted him. "Welcome back Lord Chaplain. I see that you did indeed bring friends. An ecclectic group to be sure." 

"Aye brother Malloc!", Agmemnus called, "Would that these brave souls were Imperial Fists! We would truly be blessed with such mighty warriors!"

Turning, Agmemnus called out, "BROTHERS! We have done the impossible! We have faced the horrors that would have broken others! Though we have relinquished the field of battle to our honored Blood Angel brethren, there is no shame in our retreat! Brothers, I call upon you once again! Give honor to those who have fallen! Give it to those who have relieved us! Raise your voices in praise of he who pulled humanity from the darkness! FOR THE EMPEROR!"

With that, Agmemnus marched through the gates and into the Imperial Palace...


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## killmaimburn (Mar 19, 2008)

The mighty chaplain turned to him and spoke, but even as he did so another portal opened. Fierizard clenched his teeth as the massive daemon tore through into reality and cut down the bombers. Tearing his eyes away from the glimmering hole in the world, he witnessed the arrival of more astartes. The Blood Angels! The knowledge that more brothers had arrived lifted his spirits and he swore that they would yet carry the day, _he_ would yet accomplish the mission his holy primarch had set for him! He was beyond surprise when the pilot fell from the sky and cheekily announced "Good morning, sorry to drop in". Marching alongside the fists, he watched the noble form of sanguinius soar into the sky, and his heart soared within him. Fierce pride stirred within him as he turned at attention to hear the oratory of the Chaplain. He stepped forward to the Imperial Fists captain and asked "Brother, I bring urgent information from Primarch Vulkan. I ask an audience with Lord Dorn, that I might bring him this news."
The Captain responded "Our Lord is very busy with the defences, is this information truly of such high priority?" 

"Yes, Brother. It is vital to the defence. I would not ask were it not."

"Very well, but I must know your name, and your position, that allows you to make such a request."

"I am Fierizard Salamandris, a techmarine of the Salamanders Legion and personal emissary of mighty Vulkan himself;and I must speak to Lord Dorn!"


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

Agmemnus listened as Fierizard spoke. He turned to Malloc, "I will vouch for him brother. If he says that he must speak with our lord Dorn then I believe that what he has to impart is truly important."


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## chrisman 007 (Jan 3, 2008)

"Is there anyway I can get back to my squadron?" asked Biggles as he looked back at the sky and the approaching daemon, which scared him infinitely more when he could actually see it's full size, "I dare say I'm more use in a plane than on the ground."


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## Mordeth (Aug 26, 2008)

OOC: I'm hurt! nobody commented my glorious figth with my own chaos char xD

Whirwling around, hammer ablaze with holy fire, he hit the chaos warrior with a staggering series of blows, forcing him to the knees, before hitting the side of his head with all the force he could muster. The warrior slumped to the ground, dead, and Gareth the holy chaplain finally answered Agmemnus's call for retreat, walking with his head held high, inspiring troops around him to send a last volley into the enemy before falling back.


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## chrisman 007 (Jan 3, 2008)

(OOC: You killed your character on the other thread? wow. That's what I call devotion to the Imperium :wink


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

Agmemnus accompanied Fierizard and Captain Malloc into the Imperial Palace. Captain Malloc had accepted the Salamander's words and had led them to the staging area where their Lord Dorn was said to be. As they made their way through the milling throng of Imperial Army soldiers and astartes, Agmemnus found himself mulling over Fierizard's words. The Salamander's plea seemed genuine and Agmemnus had had no doubts when he vouched for the warrior. Any one who would sacrifice himself to protect his brothers could not be touched by the madness that had seemingly infected those who followed the Warmaster. 

Agmemnus' mind wandered as they continued on. Snippets of conversations wormed their way into his subconscious and he found himself stopping. "We can't win..there are too many", came one Imperial armyman to another. "What were those things?" "Where did they come from?" These words and more were echoed by others as they voiced their worries and discontent. They had been battered and beaten, their spirits sapped by fatigue and fear and their morale was waning. They had faced things that they had never dreamed possible and were the worse for it. 

In the age of enlightenment the Emperor had brought to the struggling vestiges of humanity scattered across the cosmos, things like gods and daemons were seen as foolish superstitions best quashed so that mankind could move foward in it's mastery of the galaxy. There was no place for religion and it's rainments. Once man had clung to ancient spirit worship and cult-like devotion to various deities but had suffered only strife and discord in doing so. Beliefs clashed with beliefs as man made war against those who did not follow the same religious path he did. It was the height of ignorance and the Emperor had seen this. He had known that in order to unite humanity in one great cause he had to break the oppresive shackles of religion and show mankind the true path of wisdom and science. Only through mastering these could man find harmony and peace. Then the Warmaster had turned against his father and called upon devilish creatures to aid him in his battle for rulership over mankind. Daemons and gods had become as real as men and they were found to be terrible beasts of incomprehensible evil. 

Agmemnus could not fault the Imperial soldiers as he too had been taken aback by the events that fate had set into motion. He, himself, had found such things to be beyond belief and yet he had seen them with his own eyes. Looking to the Imperial survivors, he knew they were but men. They had fought with fire in their bellies and the Emperor's name on their lips but in the end they lacked force of will that drove an astartes on even when the odds were against them but he still could not bring himself to look down upon them. _"Fear is a great enemy and has to be faced head on with the sword of Duty and the armor of Honor"_, the chaplain Ezekhi had once told Agmemnus. _"It must be defeated...crushed. It must be rooted out and purged. If it is not, it will take root in men's hearts and bear poison fruit."_

"Lord Chaplain. Is something wrong?", Malloc asked, noticing the chaplian had stopped. Agmemnus waved them on. "No brother. Continue to Lord Dorn. I believe that I am needed here." Malloc gave a short bow and continued on with Fierizard to find the Imperial Fist's primarch.

Removing his helm, Agmemnus took a deep breath of fresh air. Here inside the walls the stench of battle held less sway and the air was purer. He turned to the gathered warriors. "Who here will fight with me on the walls when the time comes?!", he roared. The shout startled many as those able scrambled to attention. "Well? Answer me! Where is the steel I witnessed not but moments ago on the fields before the walls? Where is the courage? You have stood against terrors most men would be hard pressed to even believe and you live! WELL?! Each of you has fought with honor for our Emperor! Will you sit here bemoaning your fate, cringing and crying for mercy? Or will you stand with me upon the walls?!"

On and on the ancient chaplain cried, his voice raising as the crowd of soldiers grew larger and larger. He did not fault them..no. He did not blame them. But, he would be damned if he let the seeds of fear find fertile soil in the hearts of brave men such as these.


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## Mordeth (Aug 26, 2008)

OOC: sry to disappoint you, he is still alive and brooding. As all of you retreated, i found it wise to do so too, so i had to finish my little fight rather fast.

Walking in the great gates with a company of soliders behind him, he arrived just in time to hear Agmemnus speech.
"I will fight beside you, brother," he called in a booming voice, "Against the forces of traitors, I will face any peril. They will not be left to taint our world!" The last said in a mighty roar that all but drowned as the still growing crowd cheered.


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

OOC: Mordeth..what legion does your chaplain belong to? lol


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## Mordeth (Aug 26, 2008)

OOC: hmm, have no idea. I don't really know so much about pre-heresy SM (or SM at all...) so you pick one for me, hehehe.


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## chrisman 007 (Jan 3, 2008)

"I would be a lot more use up in the air than defending the Imperial Palace from the ground," said Biggles "Is there anyway of returning to my squadron?"


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## killmaimburn (Mar 19, 2008)

OOC: Sorry for the really late post, I've been training for a track meet and things have gotten really crazy over here...

Chaplain Agmemnus broke off from Captain Malloc and strode towards the assembled warriors of humanity. However, Fierizard continued with Malloc as he strode towards the command center where Rogal Dorn would be. After walking for some time, they reached the command center. The giant form of the primarch was already visible, and as Fierizard approached he stared in awe at the majesty of his noble form. Composing himself, he fell to his knees and declared, 
"Lord Dorn! I am Fierizard Salamandris of the Salamanders Legion and urgently desire an audience with you!"

"Rise, noble warrior" Rogal Dorn responded, "And speak. I keep no secrets from my comrades, and here is as good a place as any for you news."

Fierizard rose and began to speak. "My lord, I bring word from Vulkan. While interrogating a foul warrior who turned from the light of the emperor, we discovered grave news. He had been sent to assassinate Vulkan! From what we gathered before he expired, assasins have been dispatched for each of the primarchs here on Terra! I have been sent to warn you and place myself at your service as a bodyguard or in whatever other capacity you see fit."

"How could any mere mortal warrior hope to contend with one such as I, or my brothers?" asked Dorn. "It is an impossibility. Is Vulkan grown so weak that he has lost his edge as a warrior?"
At this, some of the assembled warriors supressed chuckles and nudges of elbows. Captain Malloc seemed about to speak, but a glance from Dorn silenced him and he resumed his position, his face more thoughtful.

Fierizard opened his mouth to deliver a hasty and angry reply, deeply offended at the slight to his and his Primarch's honor. With great mental fortitude, he bit it back and responded in a cool manner "I know not how it is possible, but the assassin sent to dispatch my lord proved formidable enough to challenge a primarch. They have been gifted with warp powers or some kind of warp-imbued weaponry. Secondly, the overconfidence you just expressed could well prove your undoing in facing such an assasin. The assassin sent to slay Vulkan had a blade poisoned so that even a Primarch could not withstand it, as we learned after analyzing it. A similar blade could be sent for you and should it so much as pierce your skin, you would be doomed."

Rogal Dorn stood silent, deep in thought, for a time. He stirred and said, "Perhaps...I have been hasty in my deliberations. Your warning is appreciated, as is your offer of service. I will instruct my honor guard to be more careful, and will treat the enemy as I would the mightiest opponent. You may serve in the defence, as my honor guard would take it amiss that one unknown to us as you should serve. I thank you, and now you may report to Chaplain Agmemnus to resume you duties."

"Thank you, my lord. I will not fail."


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

OOC: Well Mordeth, the Imperial Fists, Blood Angels and White Scars were on Terra to defend it. You could do as Killmaimburn did and have your character show up from one of the Legions that weren't present. So you could also be Raven Guard, Salamander, Iron Hand, Ultramarine, Space Wolf(though if a space wolf you'd be a different kind of chaplain..a Wolf Priest), or Dark Angels.

Also, Chrisman 007, just write yourself back into a plane if you want heh heh heh. I don't think any of the marines around you would know whether or not a plane could be found for you LOL!


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## Mordeth (Aug 26, 2008)

Gareth overheard the conversation between the good Captain and the primarch, and shuddered in remebrance of the foe he had just beaten. It had only been the Emperors spirit that had saved him, he was sure. 
Walking to the armoury, he tought about the fight. The enemy had not seemed cowed by Gareths strenght, rather it had seemed to spur his bloodlust. And yet he had not seemed completely insane, for all his laughter. This needed some research, even tough if he got caught in the act, he might be accused for heresy.
Turning away from his original path, he walked to the library. There, if anywhere, would be the knowledge to base his research.

OOC: I'll be a Raven Guard then, that will leave you people to take command, commandering too, as if you had higher rank than me. Altough my armour will look like a Black Templars armor mixed with the Raven Guard's
TY for informing me


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## thomas2 (Nov 4, 2007)

Maricus listened to the Chaplains words.

*"Hail Brothers! Would you care to join us as we make for the gates?"*

Maricus felt somewhat uncomfortable being called brother, as the Astartes and the Custodes were not the same. Nevertheless if any warrior had earned brotherhood it was this fine example of the Imperial Fists. The Custodians followed the small group that had formed, taking little interest in their talk.

As the palace was reached the others had some urgent need to see Dorn. Maricus had other things to attend to, in passing his tactical skills to the defensive line. As he walked along the defences edge he saw how well organised the Imperial Fist lines were, they had no need of his help. The Imperial Army rabble on the other hand... Many were terrified or injured, there officers having no siege experience or slain. The custodes had to organise them.

"You lot there, a battle may come any moment, and you will not help it by standing there and talking. Find your posts! Officer, I would consider it unwise to try to hold that observation post there. It has been deserted, and provides the troops inside poor firing arc, with no protection against World Eater assault. They would be better deployed, _there_."

Maricus pointed his Spear at the position, and move off to give advice elsewhere, until a task was need of him and his squad, who had split up to organise even more of the beaten down guard.


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## Mordeth (Aug 26, 2008)

Entering the library, he sent away the librarians, and started searching for anything about chaos and the warp.
"This is gonna take awhile... I just hope no battle starts soon..."


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

Agmemnus found his dreams troubled. Instead of heading back to the wall, he decided that rest was needed. He was exhausted from his battle and he knew that he would do no good if he were to falter in his duties because of weakness. An astartes was a tireless foe but even he realized he needed to sleep in order to maintain his health and there were others who could keep the troops' morale up while he rested.

He had made his way to the billet set aside for the Imperial Fist contingent and once there found his cell. Upon entering, he was greeted by his personal servant who saw to his needs. Bowing, the young man stepped aside so Agmemnus could enter. The room was sparsely furnished. Save for a desk, a stool, a book shelf that bowed under the weight of the many tomes, his armor rack and his cot there was little to be seen. The walls were a dull grey rockcrete with a single slit of a window that allowed the sun's light in to chase away the gloom. The floor was tiled in the pattern of the Imperial Aquila, it's wings outspread to encompass the whole of the room. Making his way to the armor rack on the wall, Agmemnus set his hammer and shield into their recesses. Once that was done, he took a seat on the stool and looked to his serf. "Trius, please help me remove my armor."

Agmemnus placed his helm on the sturdy desk and with the help of Trius, began the process of taking off his armor. While the terminator armor offered it's weared near-invulernability, Agmemnus found it stifling. He wondered idly why he had accepted the heavy suit in favor of his Mk V powered armor. He chuckled to himself, the sound making Trius raise his head in question. "Nothing lad", Agmemnus said, "Just an old man pondering the folly of accepting certain 'gifts'." 

Once the the armor had been removed, each piece was laid out before him on the floor with care. From the desk, Trius removed a wrag, ungents, and oils. He handed each in turn to Agmemnus who began the tasking of cleaning. The blows he had received from the traitor chaplain would need seeing to soon. The armor was still solid but he would take no chances. Fate had a way of making the inane into the complicated. "Trius, please see that these are taken to the forge while I rest." The young servant nodded, leaving with the damaged pieces of armor in tow.

As the serf left, Agmemnus moved to his cot and began the process of clearing his mind in preparation of sleep. He allowed his body's metabolism to slow, his twin hearts winding down until there were several seconds between each beat. He entered a deep, restorative sleep. 

It was rare for an astartes to dream, or at least it was in the case of Agmemnus. When he did, he found them to be fleeting memories of his past, long before he had been granted the honor of fighting for the Emperor's crusading legions. This time, however, he found himself standing on the walls surrounding the Imperial Palace. He could see traitors as they stretched far into the distance. Massive titans in service to the Warmaster strode across the plain before the walls, their mighty weapons belching smoke and plasma as they tried to break their way through the Imperium's defenses. Each bore marks of corruption, from fierce bestial heads that roared the praises of dark gods to boils and pustules which wept pus and infected blood. The sight was terrifying. Agmemnus found the sun blotted out as a great shadow crossed before it. Looking up, he believed he saw the great primarch Sanguinius once again, flying over the battle, exhorting his legion to take the fight to the heretics. Realization hit him like a hammer blow as the thing came closer. What had been the noble primarch was now some terrible parody. On multi-colored wings, the beast descended, it's serpentine neck ending in a bird-like face with glowing eyes and a wickedly sharp beak. As it landed the daemon let forth a booming screech, shattering the walls around Agmemnus with corruscating bolts of lightning and flame. He found himself falling, pieces of the wall surrounding him as he plummeted towards the ground. He smashed into the ground, the beast landing on his chest. Agmemnus looked into it's eyes and found only madness. It leaned it's avian head in close to the chaplain and from it's mouth a whisper came. _"My master has sent me to tell you this. The wall will fall and the Warmaster will be triumphant. When it comes down you will die, on your knees, begging for my Lord's mercy!" _

Agmemnus bolted upright, his body covered with a thick sheen of sweat. Wiping it from his face, he rose from his cot and made his way to the desk. He plunged his hands into the bowl of cold water that sat there and washed his face. Looking into the rippling vessel the beast's words slipped into his mind once again. _"When it comes down you will die, on your knees, begging for my Lord's mercy!"_

Rage filled the old chaplain. He lashed out, sending the pewter bowl crashing into the wall with a ringing clatter. Turning, he reached for the golden aquila that adorned this armor. It was said the sigil was a ward against warpcraft. He returned it to it's resting place and picked up his hammer. He turned the weapon over and over, taking in the craftsmanship that had been worked into relic. "Never...", he found himself whispering. Agmemnus raised his head, looking to the ceiling. "NEVER! DO YOU HEAR ME? NEVER!", he roared as he lifted the hammer higher....


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## thomas2 (Nov 4, 2007)

Maricus's squad had reformed, all the Imperials in this area organised.

"It appears to me my brothers that this lull may last a while. We should take advantage of this and see our power armour repaired from the blows inflicted on it."

Three of the squad had had their armour damaged, and Maricus knew the tireless artificers could bring the suits to full protection.

"I am sorry to say you brave soldiers cannot accompany us to rearm and armour. The command of the Imperial army here appears to have been largely shattered, and thus no-one can coordinate this. Fear not, put your faith in the Emperor and remember we shall return."

Moving into the inner confines of the palace Maricus and his warriors found the Custode quarters. Passing a brother of the Adeptus Custodes Maricus made conversation.

"Upset you haven't seen combat yet?"

"Hah! I know soon we will have a battle worthy of us. Tell me, what is this foe like?"

"The World Eaters have forgotten all but lust for battle, but they remain formidable. I struggled to kill a Sergeant."

The other nodded to him, and they continued. Entering a gold plated room Maricus began to remove his damaged chest armour, and handed it to the Artificers.

"This is the most damaged piece of mine, but I will also put the rest into your care as I cannot risk other hits being only cosmetic damage."


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

Agmemnus had returned to the walls and found himself a good spot in the center of the Imperial Fist line. It would be here that his oratory would have the greatest effect. He watched as the Fist captains led his brothers in litanies of hate and rites of firing. The heretics were taking the worst of it now. The walls were over 30 meters high and nearly as thick. This was where the traitors' numbers would hinder more than help. Until they breeched the wall, they would be forced to push forward into the waiting guns of the loyalists. Of course that was moot. The traitors had yet to break through the red line now manning the forward defensive positions. The Blood Angels acquited themselves well, cutting down swathes of heretics with each measured blast of their bolters. 

Once again, Agmemnus found himself wishing he was down there in the thick of the fighting. His choler had darkened since his nightmarish dream. The effect could easily be seen as his face was caught in a constant scowl. His eyes searched for the beast that had promised his death and the defeat of his Emperor. He had yet to find the damnedable creature. He wondered if the creature had been sent to break his will, it's words only lies to spread the seed of discontent. It had failed, of course. Agmemnus had never known fear since becoming an astartes. He had no reason for it. He knew full well that few things in this galaxy could match the fearsome power of one of the Emperor's crusaders. If he died, he did so in service to humanity and the Emperor. 

From below came a great cry from amongst the Blood Angel, snapping him back to the present. One of the great, winged daemons that had come from the portals smashed into the Blood Angel line with a furious charge. It's mighty axe swung left and right, carving a bloody path through the loyal astartes who fought to hold the line. Agmemnus knew that it would take a miracle to stop such a powerful foe and he hoped that the Blood Angels could find a way to defeat the beast. As he watched, a great golden bolt with snowy wings fell from the skies heading for the bloodthirster. Awe filled the old chaplain. It was Sanguinius himself, his silvery sword held high above his head and praises to the Emperor on his lips. Thunder reverberated across the battlefield as the Blood Angels primarch slammed into the roaring daemon. Agmemnus knew that what he witnessed now would never be forgotten. The power of Horus' daemonic champions warred with one of the Emperor's greatest sons. 

Raising his voice, he called upon all around him to take up the chant, "SANGUINIUS!"


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## Mordeth (Aug 26, 2008)

Groaning, Gareth slammed shut the book he had been reading. He had discovered nigh to nothing of value, and by the sounds of it a new big clash was right around the corner.
But, information was the key to victory, he tought as he started plowing trough another promising title.
If he could just find some clues about their enemies, this battle could be made alot easier.


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## thomas2 (Nov 4, 2007)

Maricus realised some of the repairs could take longer then they had. Turning to the Chief Armourer of the Custodes, a warrior of the Adeptus Custodes clad in even better crafted armour.

"Brother, have you spare suits for myself and my honour guard?"

"You spare armour is being kept in the main armoury. We have just finished improving the wards on it to the same level as this armour."

"Thank you for your work."

Maricus left, clad in his secondary armour as his other was worked upon. He moved to the line of defence they currently held. The red line ahead still held back the horde.

"Shall we grant the Blood Angels the help of the Emperors guardian?"

A rousing cheer came from his men.

"We shall help them! They will not stand alone!"

The golden band found their way down and began to run across the blasted ground, power armour, perfect bodies and minor physic aid working together perfectly.


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## Shogun_Nate (Aug 2, 2008)

OOC: Has this RP died? heh heh heh


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## killmaimburn (Mar 19, 2008)

OOC: I'll put up a new post tomorrow, too tired right now. It's the end of the marking period at my school and as such I've had 2 tests in every subject as well as the PSAT, swamped with work...


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