Abandon Hope, Embrace Faith

[greendoor]

Poutiers V is definitely not anyone's ideal of a first campaign.


From the outside of the troop train's few windows, Poutiers is a dreary world. Hunchbacked figures in grey and brown work muddy fields by the side of the railway, bent over and oppressed by the endless rain and whip bearing enforcers both. A palatable sense of misery rises from them you can sense even from the railcar. An occasional town or facility passes by-many of them ruined or abandoned-but by and large there is only mud, peasants, and rain. No great cities or fortresses like home-little glory in mud. Even with the rumble of engines and axles and the mutter of your fellow troops, you can still hear the distant crash of falling artillery-you're getting close.


Your car is too small and uncomfortable-a platoon of men and women squeezed into perhaps half the space needed for their own fifty soldiers. Your own squad is assigned to a corner near the door-so you are the first to know when the door opens and your Lieutenant enters. Lieutenant Savetier is a stocky man, clean shaven, young, his carapace shined as if it will not be soon be covered in mud. The rest of the platoon snaps to attention slowly as they notice the officer. As soon as everyone is paying attention, he begins to speak.


"As i'm sure you've all noticed, we're getting close to the front-regiment command has confirmed we're going straight to the trenches."-To his credit, the Lieutenant at least manages to look apologetic. "We're fighting the Archenemy-traitors and heretics-The Colonel has authorized dissemination of details." A murmur passes through the compartment at the mention of traitors. "They call themselves the Fallow-Peasants who have risen against the local nobility-under the banner of the foul Plague God." Another murmur passes through the compartment. "We can expect cultist light infantry-poorly trained and armed, but determined, in the cowardly way of traitors. Along with a few traitors from the local PDF-but given what we've seen, they can't be much better than the peasants."

The officer unrolls a map and places it on a table. It shows a small town on a hill, surrounded by trenchworks. "Our first objective is to to take this town-Scharberg-the PDF has been thrown back in every attempt they've made, so naturally, they've turned to us. It's on natural high ground-so it's a good first prize." The tiny town does not look like much a prize to any of you. "We'll be going in after the local artillery pounds the hilltop-hopefully into rubble-and then we'll advance from the PDF's trenches. First platoon, we have the honor of leading the assault." Savatier continues, stoicly. "Secure your gasmasks and fix your bayonets, Bolwercs-Emperor permitting, we will sanctify them with traitor's blood today."

"Any Questions?"


(OOC: Also introduce your self and possibly ask around to meet other people in your squad/platoon

Links:
OOC thread

 

[Caarn]

Poutiers V is definitely not anyone's ideal of a first campaign.


From the outside of the troop train's few windows, Poutiers is a dreary world. Hunchbacked figures in grey and brown work muddy fields by the side of the railway, bent over and oppressed by the endless rain and whip bearing enforcers both. A palpable sense of misery rises of from them you can sense even from the railcar. An occasional town or facility passes by-many of them ruined or abandoned-but by and large there is only mud, peasants, and rain. No great cities or fortresses like home-little glory in mud. Even with the rumble of engines and axles and the mutter of your fellow troops, you can still hear the distant crash of falling artillery-you're getting close.


Your car is too small and uncomfortable-a platoon of men and women squeezed into perhaps half the space needed for their own fifty soldiers. Your own squad is assigned to a corner near the door-so you are the first to know when the door opens and your Lieutenant enters. Lieutenant Savetier is a stocky man, clean shaven, young, his carapace shined as if it will not be soon be covered in mud. The rest of the platoon snaps to attention slowly as they notice the officer. As soon as everyone is paying attention, he begins to speak.


"As i'm sure you've all noticed, we're getting close to the front-regiment command has confirmed we're going straight to the trenches."-To his credit, the Lieutenant at least manages to look apologetic. "We're fighting the Archenemy-traitors and heretics-The Colonel has authorized dissemination of details." A murmur passes through the compartment at the mention of traitors. "They call themselves the Fallow-Peasants who have risen against the local nobility-under the banner of the foul Plague God." Another murmur passes through the compartment. "We can expect cultist light infantry-poorly trained and armed, but determined, in the cowardly way of traitors. Along with a few traitors from the local PDF-but given what we've seen, they can't be much better than the peasants."

The officer unrolls a map and places it on a table. It shows a small town on a hill, surrounded by trench-works. "Our first objective is to to take this town-Scharberg-the PDF has been thrown back in every attempt they've made, so naturally, they've turned to us. It's on natural high ground-so it's a good first prize." The tiny town does not look like much a prize to any of you. "We'll be going in after the local artillery pounds the hilltop-hopefully into rubble-and then we'll advance from the PDF's trenches. First platoon, we have the honor of leading the assault." Savatier continues, stoicly. "Secure your gasmasks and fix your bayonets, Bolwercs-Emperor permitting, we will sanctify them with traitor's blood today."

"Any Questions?"


(OOC: Also introduce your self and possibly ask around to meet other people in your squad/platoon)

Click to shrink...

Adalicia thumped the blunt end of her Chain Glaive on the train car floor to grab Lieutenant Savetier's attention, her free hand then took off her cap fashioned to the Bolwerc style as her blonde hair and silver eyes were brought to bare. "Sergeant Malmström of First Platoon ser, Do we have any information as to what kind of heavy weapons they might have Lieutenant? The fact that they have PDF traitors in their presence means the possibility of a heavy stubber or a heavy bolter. " She said to him as she stared up at the man, the noblewoman wondering what his answer would be.

Having taken a peek outside the windows before asking the Lieutenant, Adalicia knew that there would be no such thing as glory on Poutiers, only death and decay of the Plague God. Like any new regiment the 157th Bolwerc Shock needed to be blooded, and what better way than to stomp on traitors and heretics in an act of rebellion?

 

[Zeitgeist Blue]

Gerard squeezed Klem's hand at the mention of traitors, feeling the callouses on his wife's palm. Rough from years on the battlefield. He let go quickly, bending down to whisper as the murmurs began.

"Trench warfare and plague cultists? Emperor. What these people must have gone through..." He shook his head. There were no words. Heretics and worse, traitors so selfish in their rebellion that misery piled on Poutiers for reasons that would prove useless. The Bolwerc's were going to take it back, and that'd be the end of that.

As Sergeant Malmstrom finished her speech Gerard rose to his full height and stepped forward, Guardsmen making room for his wide girth as he pushed nearer to the table and made the sign of the Aquila. He glanced at the Sergeant. She was new and a noble, and he did not know how to feel about her.

"Lieutenant Savetier, ser!" He said, beard bristling and voice booming. "Guardsman Stocker, Heavy Weapons Specialist, and on our Bolwerc honor you can count every single pus-filled traitor a walking deadman!"

 

[Arvin_Larn]

@greendoor

Henrik quietly fiddled with the strap of his helmet as the Lieutanant briefed them on the task at hand. That their Platoon, and their Regiment's, first action was not at all what they had expected was abundantly clear from the moment they were herded into this cramped railcar, then given a 'scenic' view of Poutiers V's countryside, until stopping here in what was practically the middle of nowhere. He'd been told as a child that Agri-Worlds were these rustic planets where the crop fields would stretch out as far as the eye could see and people there lived simple, idyllic lives. What he saw on that railcar was anything but.

His Cybernetic Ears had picked up on his fellow Platoon-mates' murmurs the entire time, that of bored speculation as they tried to make sense of where they were headed, then discontent at the seeming unimportance of their task, and now the anxiety as Lieutenant Savetier revealed the exact purpose of their presence on Poutiers V: to stamp out the Plauge God's influence upon the land and the craven traitors who joined him in their maddened desire to see the local Nobility overthrown. To say that he didn't share their sentiments would be a lie, but the Emperor's work needed to be done. Besides, as a new, inexperienced Regiment, Henrik figured that they would be given an 'easy' assignment to get acclimated with the rigors of life in the Guard. Not that leading the charge into an entrenched position on their first battle could be called 'easy' by any stretch.

@Kharn_Valnikov

The Specialist stood beside Adalicia as she spoke up, keeping his silence while the Sergeant inquired about the readiness of the Heretic defenses to the Lieutenant. Henrik was definitely surprised to know that not only would he be serving with his more-prominent cousin in the same Regiment, but that they would belong to the same Squad under her command. He idly mused if it was the Emperor's Will, or perhaps the result of someone pulling some strings, but in the end it didn't matter; fortunate as he was. He hadn't had a lot of time to become acquainted with the firstborn Heir to the Malmström legacy but there will be plenty of opportunities for that in the near future... assuming they both survived past this first battle.

@Shephard @Mina

Henrik glanced towards someone in particular: a large barrel-chested man whose sun-kissed skin and myriad of scars and wrinkles stood as a testament to his age and his prowess as a Guardsman. Valentin was one of the few people in this Squad who had any real idea of what they were going to be up against. So perhaps it would be wise to seek his thoughts on the matter.

"So, Valentin, what do you think? Will we be in for a rough first fight?" He asked, quietly enough so that his voice wouldn't rise over the Lieutenant's conversation. The young man glanced at Klementina as well, one of the other veterans in their Squad, the polar opposite of Valentin in terms of physique, and Gerard's wife. Getting her input wouldn't hurt either.

 

[Shephard]

Scrunched into a corner too small for his brawny frame, packed against the rest of his squad, ears ringing with the distant rumble of artillery and the endless thrum of the train's engines...Valentin slept. Eyes closed, head against the back of the train as it vibrated. And then, when the train door opened, his eyes flicked open and with a brief yawn, he straightened himself out. He rolled his meaty neck and stretched out his broad shoulders, careful not to get in anyone else's way.

Where most of the train crew looked out the windows in disappointment, Valentin gave an easy grin-something that seemed all too odd on his face scarred from decades of war and a weathered by age. Running a hand along his handsomely groomed beard, he looked out across the platoon and chuckled to himself. The regiment had a lot to learn if they hated rain so much. That was a real soldier's life-Stationing in shitholes. They'd figure out eventually to take the good where they could find it.

"Think of it this way lads-Rain'll probably be giving those heretics a much needed bath, eh?" He chuckled. "Their smell's probably worse than their bite!"

He quieted down as the officer spoke, listening intently to every word. Finally, he spoke up.

"Any Questions?"

Click to shrink...

"Sir! What can we expect for enemy numbers? Any preferred enemy tactics? They like getting in close, or prefer blazing away with autoguns, sir?" Valentin asks. "Any targets of opportunity we should keep a look-out for, sir?"

@Shephard
Henrik glanced towards someone in particular: a large barrel-chested man whose sun-kissed skin and myriad of scars and wrinkles stood as a testament to his age and his prowess as a Guardsman. Valentin was one of the few people in this Squad who had any real idea of what they were going to be up against. So perhaps it would be wise to seek his thoughts on the matter.

"So, Valentin, what do you think? Will we be in for a rough first fight?" He asked, quietly enough so that his voice wouldn't rise over the Lieutenant's conversation. The young man glanced at Klementina as well, one of the other veterans in their Squad, the polar opposite of Valentin in terms of physique, and Gerard's wife. Getting her input wouldn't hurt either.

Click to shrink...

Valentin gave a hearty chuckle. "From peasants? Nah, son. No military discipline, little in the way of heavy weapons. Most of 'em are going to be using stubbers." Valenin claps a hand against the other man's carapace breastplate with a chuckle. "Even a heavy stubber getting through this. Biggest threat is grenades or them trying to stick a grenade through a joint-just watch out for those. Keep your head down, and follow my lead and your orders, and you'll come out right as rain, laddie."

 

[SirLagginton]

Lienhard shuffled from where he had awkwardly stood at attention, feeling out of place and vulnerable in too-bright fabrics and packed in a small compartment with people that he was only vaguely familiar with. He could see the disappointment and boredom on the faces of many of his colleagues and felt yet another point from where he and they differed, another barrier between he and them, where they saw dreary stretches of rain and mud he only saw an absence of blood-red torches and the everpresent smog that hung over the desolate city. Even this disappointing little world was a welcome change from the numbing life he had left behind.

He shook his head as the lieutenant revealed their mission details, even on this world light-years from home, it looked like stench of mutantkind followed at his back. He couldn't decide whether he was angry or relieved at prospect of seeing his childhood enemy, he had never even seen a Tau in the flesh, for all that he was taught to hate and fight the lying xenos. A mutant though? He knew mutants, they bled, they screamed, they died, often with his shiv rammed through their throats. He wondered if the same applied to the likes of the alien Eldar or the savage barbarity of the greenskins. He shrugged internally to himself. Maybe one day he'll find out, hopefully without him being the one laying in the gutter at the end.

He looked at his compatriots talking amongst themselves, hesitated, and then turned back to attention, that ill-fitting feeling hitting him once more. After months here Lienhard still wasn't sure he belonged here. And more than once he received more than one dirty look after the others had learned he was from the Cursed Canton. Best not to give the others more reason to hate him, he had enough of others trying to kill him back "home".

 

[greendoor]

"Sergeant Malmström of First Platoon ser, Do we have any information as to what kind of heavy weapons they might have Lieutenant? The fact that they have PDF traitors in their presence means the possibility of a heavy stubber or a heavy bolter. " She said to him as she stared up at the man, the noblewoman wondering what his answer would be.

Click to shrink...

"The local PDF is rather poorly equipped-If they had any Heavy Bolters, they would've beggared themselves to own them." The Lieutenant says, nodding to you. "We can expect Heavy Stubbers though, of course-but that's nothing to be feared." He thumped a hand against his breastplate as if to demonstrate why.

"Sir! What can we expect for enemy numbers? Any preferred enemy tactics? They like getting in close, or prefer blazing away with autoguns, sir?" Valentin asks. "Any targets of opportunity we should keep a look-out for, sir?"

Click to shrink...

"Large-we can expect much of the town's population to have been converted to the Fallow's side. From what we've heard from the PDF, they prefer attrition warfare-trenchework, chemical weapons, and ranged fire to grind us down over time." The Lieutenant recites. "As for targets of opportunity, it is believed there may be one of the enemy champions in the town-watch out for mutants better equipped than the rest or who seemed to be in charge-there might be glory in who brings back their head."

"Lieutenant Savetier, ser!" He said, beard bristling and voice booming. "Guardsman Stocker, Heavy Weapons Specialist, and on our Bolwerc honor you can count every single pus-filled traitor a walking deadman!"

Click to shrink...

Your voice is quickly joined a dozen others. The Lieutenant smiles "Glad to hear-with an attitude like that, we'll be out of this mud-hole soon enough."

 

[Mina]

Gerard squeezed Klem's hand at the mention of traitors, feeling the callouses on his wife's palm. Rough from years on the battlefield. He let go quickly, bending down to whisper as the murmurs began.

Click to shrink...

Klem snorted, squeezing back and rousing herself from Gerard's shoulder. Her elbow found soft purchase in the soldier next to them as she straightened up and wiped a streak of drool from the corner of her mouth. Eyes came online swiftly, the glowing slits pulsing several times.

"El-tee sir, are we going to have time for chow before going off to show the PDF how it's done?"

 

[greendoor]

Klem snorted, squeezing back and rousing herself from Gerard's shoulder. Her elbow found soft purchase in the soldier next to them as she straightened up and wiped a streak of drool from the corner of her mouth. Eyes came online swiftly, the glowing slits pulsing several times.

"El-tee sir, are we going to have time for chow before going off to show the PDF how it's done?"

Click to shrink...

The Lieutenant rolls up the map, and says "If you hurry-we should arriving in less than half an hour. Prepare yourselves-eat, pray, check your weapons-just be ready, First Platoon." He says, then steps out of the compartment, leaving you to do just that. For those who look out the window, the not so ideal countryside shifts to a vision of war. The ground becomes pockmarked with shell craters filled with dark water and long rotted bodies dot the ground in ones and twos. You pass by a field hospital, full of groaning wounded in the local PDF's dark green trenchcoats, and on another side, you see a fresh company of the same march by, autoguns held at shoulder as they march on a cobbled road alongside the tracks. One man finds the spirit to cheer at your train's appearance-the rest just keep marching.


And then the train stops at a mustering station near the front. And then your company is exiting the train, assembling to it's full five hundred man strength, under the impressively loud command of Company Captain Schafer. Rank after rank of Bolwerc Guardsmen in shining carapace are assembled for just a minute, giving the PDF quite a show you're sure. But, sadly, the ranks break to be distributed to their particular trenches, led by their lieutenants.


You navigate to your own section of trenches, boots squishing in mud, rain running off your helmets. One of the Lasmen in your squad, a large man named Herman, says "Just wait till we get to the enemy trenches-we'll forget all about this rain then." Another, Kristen, a short woman with her lasgun slung, replies "And i'm sure the blood will wash this mud right off" with a roll of her eyes. You press off through the maze of trenches, the sound of artillery slowing letting off with time, from deafening to merely ear shattering.

The Lieutenant calls a halt when you reach the front trench. He pulls a small halfhelm from his belt and puts it on his head, then looks over the side of trench for barely half a second-though not long enough to prevent a solid round from ricocheting off his helm with a clang. Ducking back down with a shake of his head, he takes a minute, but then says. "Trench lines, about eighty meters uphill-barbed wire and infantry. Some cover in no man's land." He sighs, and you notice for the first time the LT's hands are shaking very slightly. "We go over the top in five minutes time guardsmen. Prepare yourselves."

(OOC: The named Guardsmen "In your Squad" are the NPC Lasmen, if that's confusing. Roll20 will go up in the OOC very soon)

 

[Kensai]

Cinis had kept very quiet all the way through the ride and the briefing. In part it was because she was just naturally quiet; in part because she wanted to listen to what everyone else had to say. In the short break they had before the action, Cinis put down some of her thoughts in a latter to her mother.

Dear Mam,
We're going into action soon. My squad mates are all sure we're going to beat these fellows right quick. The Leftenant says we'll be out of this mud-hole soon.

Wish I was so sure, Mam. s' one thing to be hunting wild squigs, but shooting a man, even if he's shooting back, even if he needs shooting - well, I know I can do it, but it makes me sick to think people could sink so far into madness and sin they'd invite such wickedness into their lives. Guess that makes me a hick. Some of them in my squad said so anyways, when I told that I wasn't going to go to the stews with them. Wickedness and temptation it is, like the Commissar says.

Well, you'll smile to know I stayed clean away from those places, and I go to service every chance I get. It's nice not having to walk ten miles to church, the Preachers come by to our garrison and they put on a real uplifting show every time. I even got a little seal off one of them, she said it would help to keep my gun pure and shooting straight. I'm grateful for that. I got it sighted in just the way I like it.

Stay well, Mam. We're going into action soon. We've been told not to take any souvenirs so I can't send anything home, but the first heretic I shoot'll be in your name so the Emperor knows you did good and brought me up right. His blessings on you and the pack.

Till next,
Cinny

 

[SirLagginton]

Count to ten. Breathe in. Back out.

Lienhard relaxed, rolling his shoulders against the damp wood that held the mud of the field out from the trench, heedless of the rain that drummed against their armor, soaking deeply into the colored cloth. The first thing he had ever learned was to take the punches as they came, the galaxy didn't care whether you were uncomfortable or not, some things just happened regardless of what you say and do. Complaining about the rain was a waste of energy, so he didn't bother. He would need all of his strength once he crossed blades with the traitors. And besides, this was far from the worst conditions he had fought in. He perked up as the lieutenant called out a time. Five minutes. Five minutes until they were over the top.

He looked over his compatriots, and wondered. How many of them did have families? He'd heard an idle remark beforehand that the heavies were involved in with each other. Did that apply for the others? Would they weep for the loss of their loved ones? Or would they just carry on, rendered numb by loss and bitterness like he had been a long, long time ago. If they survived or died, would he even care? A part of him wanted to, wanted to see for himself about what was so great about the families that others talked about, to have someone you could trust and love unconditionally. Back in the Cursed Canton he had his clan-regiment, but there the Enemy's shadow hung over them all. And didn't the Emperor care? He loved them all, and to fail to hold himself up similarly put a bad taste in his mouth. To be lesser than the Lord of Mankind was no sin, yet to fail to live up to his example was a shameful prospect. He wanted to care, but a lifetime of disappointment told him that it would all be wasted effort in the end.

Count to ten. Breathe in. Back out.

He repeated his little mantra to himself, and relaxed back, putting his unruly thoughts out of mind. Soon he would meet his blade against the enemy's, and he would see for himself if his mettle was worthy for service in the Golden Throne.

 

[Arvin_Larn]

@greendoor @Zeitgeist Blue @Mina

Henrik couldn't help but chuckle when he saw Klementina snoozing quietly on Gerard's shoulder. That the couple, a married one at that, were in the same Squad came as even more of a surprise to him than the fact that Adalicia was their Squad Leader considering that married Guardsmen usually had spouses who were either civilians or worked in support roles. Not that it bothered him. It was endearing in a way to see the two work together.

The Emperor and His Saints would hopefully watch over the two, though a small, cynical part of the young man told him that it wouldn't be that way forever. He ruthlessly quashed that particular thought before it could bother him any longer.

@Shephard

"That so? Well if you aren't too worried then I suppose that's a good sign then." The Specialist grinned back as Valentin clapped his breastplate which made him stagger slightly in the process. He nodded as the Veteran offered more advice, words that he tried to bury firmly into his head. They would become very vital advice in the next few hours, the young man felt.

"In any case, we'll see for sure what the Heretics have in store. May the Emperor watch over us, and may you and our esteemed Sergeant lead us to victory today, Ser Valentin." Henrik said as Savatier steps out of the compartment. The next hour or so went by like a blur as their train stopped at a mustering station, their entire Company fully-arrayed in front of the (very vocal) Company Captain, before breaking into their individual Squads as they filed into the trenches to get ready for the incoming assault.

One thing was certain, though: the rain and mud made everything all the more miserable. The narrow trenches were even harder to move through when the earth beneath was reduced to a wet slurry which splattered all over their brightly-colored uniforms. Henrik was only thankful that he had invested in cybernetic replacements for his ears as it reduced the deafening rumble of artillery to a low murmur. It made the mounting tension a bit less painful as their Squad soon reached their part of the forward trenches.

So there they were, huddled together in their trench under the rain as Lieutenant Savatier poked his head out. He only had but a moment before immediately ducking down as a Cultist round slams into his (thankfully protected) head. Henrik couldn't help but grimace at that; Valentin's words had been re-assuring but that didn't stop the thought of assaulting a trenchline full of abominable Cultists from being intimidating as frak.

@Kensai @SirLagginton

Henrik took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to calm his fraying nerves. He looked along the trench, to his fellow Bolwerc, and saw Cinis and Lienhard: two of the more taciturn members in their Squad. The Specialist flashed the two a thumb's up and a smile, both to make up for the lack of interaction he had with them back in the railcar and to mask his own racing heart. He had his comrades, faith in Valentin's words and, more importantly, he had his faith in the Emperor. They were going to take that damned Hill, kick the Fallow off of it, and bring glory to the 157th Bolwerc Shock. Or die trying.

Hopefully, the former and not the latter.

 

[Shephard]

@Shephard

"That so? Well if you aren't too worried then I suppose that's a good sign then." The Specialist grinned back as Valentin clapped his breastplate which made him stagger slightly in the process. He nodded as the Veteran offered more advice, words that he tried to bury firmly into his head. They would become very vital advice in the next few hours, the young man felt.

"In any case, we'll see for sure what the Heretics have in store. May the Emperor watch over us, and may you and our esteemed Sergeant lead us to victory today, Ser Valentin."

Click to shrink...

Valentin raises a hand. "No, no, no...Please, just Valentin. Ser is for nobles, and I'm far from that."

The Lieutenant rolls up the map, and says "If you hurry-we should arriving in less than half an hour. Prepare yourselves-eat, pray, check your weapons-just be ready, First Platoon." He says, then steps out of the compartment, leaving you to do just that. For those who look out the window, the not so ideal countryside shifts to a vision of war. The ground becomes pockmarked with shell craters filled with dark water and long rotted bodies dot the ground in ones and twos. You pass by a field hospital, full of groaning wounded in the local PDF's dark green trenchcoats, and on another side, you see a fresh company of the same march by, autoguns held at shoulder as they march on a cobbled road alongside the tracks. One man finds the spirit to cheer at your train's appearance-the rest just keep marching.

Click to shrink...

Valentin waves at the cheering man as they pass by, smiling quietly to himself as the PDFer disappears. Prying a small pack of lhos from one of his pockets, Valentin slides open the window several cracks and lights it, breathing out the smoke through the crack. No reason to annoy any of his comrades with the smoke.

He takes a long draft, breathing deep the acrid smoke and letting it soothe his nerves. It was going to be a long day. Might as well get it off to a good start, eh? He begins to hum to himself, an old Bolwere tune, offkey and guttural.

"~Turnip lantern, little turnip lantern/Where are you going?/ In the dark night/Without stars/There must be my little light.~"

You navigate to your own section of trenches, boots squishing in mud, rain running off your helmets.

Click to shrink...

Valentin pauses, his boots squelching in the mud as they pass a shivering PDF trooper. He shakes his head, then roots through his pockets. Pulling the lho-box out of his pocket again, he peers inside. Only six left...Still more than enough to share.

"Hey, you look like you could use some warming up, eh, son? Care for a lho?" Valentin asks. "Got any advice for a new arrival, friend?"

You navigate to your own section of trenches, boots squishing in mud, rain running off your helmets. One of the Lasmen in your squad, a large man named Herman, says "Just wait till we get to the enemy trenches-we'll forget all about this rain then." Another, Kristen, a short woman with his lasgun slung, replies "And i'm sure the blood will wash this mud right off" with a roll of her eyes. You press off through the maze of trenches, the sound of artillery slowing letting off with time, from deafening to merely ear shattering.

The Lieutenant calls a halt when you reach the front trench. He pulls a small halfhelm from his belt and puts it on his head, then looks over the side of trench for barely half a second-though not long enough to prevent a solid round from ricocheting off his helm with a clang. Ducking back down with a shake of his head, he takes a minute, but then says. "Trench lines, about eighty meters uphill-barbed wire and infantry. Some cover in no man's land." He sighs, and you notice for the first time the LT's hands are shaking very slightly. "We go over the top in five minutes time guardsmen. Prepare yourselves."

(OOC: The named Guardsmen "In your Squad" are the NPC Lasmen, if that's confusing. Roll20 will go up in the OOC very soon)

Click to shrink...

"Look on the bright side, a bit of action will warm us all right up." Valentin calls out, hurrying back into line with a chuckle. "Plus, way I see it-Past their lines are going to be a lot of nice, warm, toasty houses to rest our feet in. Getting through them is what'll get the rain off our backs."

He continues the march, whistling a tune before they arrive at the trenches. He slings his lasgun over his shoulder and slides his gasmask over his head. Double-checking the straps and seals, he nods to himself, readying his lasgun and screwing his bayonet into place. He reaches down, tapping the Uplifting Primer safely secured at his hip, and closes his eyes. He takes a breath of the stale, filtered air of his mask, and begins to recite the Litany of War, as he had a hundred times before.
"Emperor, bestow on me your righteous fury and your righteous strength. Let me become the storm that blasts the enemy from your sight."

He peers over the trench work, shadowing himself from view behind an outcropping of rotting grass. The enemy positions were obvious-and to his eyes, their equipment just as well.

@Kharn_Valnikov
"Sergeant?" Valentin calls out. "Looks like a heavy weapon and a special weapons team in the center-bloody amateurs." Spreading out the heavy weapons is what one should do. "PDF trooper with a heavy stubber, another with grenade launcher, and I think that cultist over there is either equipped with a flamer or a very bright lho-stick lighter. Right next to each other-perfect place to put a frag missile if you ask me, ser."

 

[greendoor]

Valentin pauses, his boots squelching in the mud as they pass a shivering PDF trooper. He shakes his head, then roots through his pockets. Pulling the lho-box out of his pocket again, he peers inside. Only six left...Still more than enough to share.

"Hey, you look like you could use some warming up, eh, son? Care for a lho?" Valentin asks. "Got any advice for a new arrival, friend?"

Click to shrink...

The PDF trooper, a overly skinny youth in a too large trenchcoat, gladly accept the Lho. He takes a long drag, then replies. "If you're going over the top, keep an ear out-they got mortars at the top of that hill-my platoon's got torn to shred's by them twice now." He sighs, and exhales some smoke. "They like to wait till you get close and in the open, then drop shells on you. Listen for the whistling and dive for the ground if you can."

 

[Caarn]

Adalicia jolted a little a the sudden bellow that Gerard Stocker gave to the Lieutenant, the ones that followed his example filled the mellow train car with spirit and vigor. As to why she'd come to recognize the imposingly tall and barrel chested man was because of the dataslate that was provided to her, in it was the composition of the squad as well as the names and general history of those who were if the first platoon. Needless to say she took her time looking over each file and remembering faces and names before they had arrived at Poutiers V.

The Lieutenant rolls up the map, and says "If you hurry-we should arriving in less than half an hour. Prepare yourselves-eat, pray, check your weapons-just be ready, First Platoon." He says, then steps out of the compartment, leaving you to do just that.

Click to shrink...

@Arvin_Larn
She nodded to the Lieutenant before turning to her side opposite to that she then saw a familiar face, Henrik of house Lundberg who was busy looking back at the rest of the platoon. Adalicia prodded him gently till she got his attention, a nod and a small smile coming up to her face as she leaned on her Chain Glaive a bit.

"Surprised to see a Lundberg in the same platoon, seems like the Emperor wants you to stick close. Read your profile a little, those demolition skills of yours will come in handy cousin." She said to him as she smacked his arm gently before looking out to the rest, loudly she thumped her Chain Glaive once more to catch the attention of those who were chatting or eating.

@greendoor
"To those who are taking their meal you may continue doing so but have your ears open, to those chatting please do listen. I am Adalicia Malmström and I am your platoon sergeant, as many of you may know I am what you call...Green and fresh out of the PDF. Rest assured I will show my capabilities and prove myself to you lot that following me and my orders will hopefully save you." She said as she looked around to those who were listening, her eyes then turning to Valentin and the Stocker couple and to any of those in the Platoon who looked experienced.

"Now this is for the veterans, you have been out in the field far longer than most of us in this platoon, as such I ask of you to teach those who have little to no experience how to better survive in the field. I also ask of you all to give input to me as well, much is there learn from those who hold scars and battle memories."

"That said I look forward to working with all of you, lets make quick work of this rebellion rabble and get ourselves a real reward. That's all!" She bellowed and before she knew it the train would stop and the platoon along with the others were now being rallied out, soon enough she found herself walking through the muddy trenches and into the front well the line between the Imperium and those of the heretics met.

The Lieutenant calls a halt when you reach the front trench. He pulls a small halfhelm from his belt and puts it on his head, then looks over the side of trench for barely half a second-though not long enough to prevent a solid round from ricocheting off his helm with a clang. Ducking back down with a shake of his head, he takes a minute, but then says. "Trench lines, about eighty meters uphill-barbed wire and infantry. Some cover in no man's land." He sighs, and you notice for the first time the LT's hands are shaking very slightly. "We go over the top in five minutes time guardsmen. Prepare yourselves."

Click to shrink...

Adalicia turned to her platoon as she all gave them a nod. "Fix your bayonets and get those gas masks ready, in a few minutes we'll give those bastards a Bolwerc welcome! Find a partner and check each other's gear, make sure you have a buddy because two Bolwercs is always better than one!" She shouted out the order and had it passed along the line as she sighed out, the moment of combat was night and the jitters before the storm came.

@Kharn_Valnikov
"Sergeant?" Valentin calls out. "Looks like a heavy weapon and a special weapons team in the center-bloody amateurs." Spreading out the heavy weapons is what one should do. "PDF trooper with a heavy stubber, another with grenade launcher, and I think that cultist over there is either equipped with a flamer or a very bright lho-stick lighter. Right next to each other-perfect place to put a frag missile if you ask me, ser."

Click to shrink...

Adalicia gripped the Glaive tightly as she turned around and looked up at Valentin. "Yes Guardsman Rochi?" She asked before she listened in.

"Weapons team you say? They aren't spread out? Hmmm...Good call Guardsman Rochi, I praise you for your sharp eyes and mind." She said to him with a nod before turning her head to the line. "Guardsman Gerard Stocker! Come over here!" She shouted out as she waited for the tower of a man to come.

@Zeitgeist Blue
"Listen closely Guardsman Stocker, Guardsman Rochi here spotted a weapons team down the middle where we are right now. There's eighty-meters between us and their lines, the heavy stubber won't be much of a problem because of our armor but it'll be a nuisance. The real threats are the grenade launcher and the possibility of a flamer being there, the latter being far more dangerous as it'll roast us alive before we even get in that trench." She explained to the brute of a man before catching her breath.

"Load a frag missile into your launcher and as soon as the order to charge is given I want you to take that team out as best you can, got it?" She said to him as she looked him straight in the eye before turning back to Valentin.

"Guardsman Rochi, I want you to pass down the line that those with smoke grenades are to throw them as to support our advance, those with frags are to throw them before charging right into the trench. It'll give those heathens a treat. I want it done now, also if you have anything else to say please do so now as we do not have time on our side." She said to the scarred Veteran.

@SirLagginton
Looking down the line once more she then noticed a Glaivesman in the ranks, calling him over she then nodded to the two vets before turning to meet the Guardsman.

"Guardsman Gertsch? I'd like for you to stay close to me, since you have a chain glaive just like me I'd like for you to support and watch my back. Also try not to do big swings, trenches are tight and don't have much room to swing from side to side so do your best to stab and swing downwards on them." She said to him with a nod. "If there's nothing you want to say then stay right beside me." She added as she turned to look back at the two older Veterans, right now Gertsch past as a Grave-Regiment scout didn't matter as his job as a Grenadier along with his glaive would help her tremendously.

 

[Zeitgeist Blue]

He takes a long draft, breathing deep the acrid smoke and letting it soothe his nerves. It was going to be a long day. Might as well get it off to a good start, eh? He begins to hum to himself, an old Bolwere tune, offkey and guttural.

"~Turnip lantern, little turnip lantern/Where are you going?/ In the dark night/Without stars/There must be my little light.~"

Click to shrink...

A tune started nearby. Low and offkey, one voice in a traincar of many.

Gerard looked up from his musings, Klem snoozing on his shoulder, and met the eyes of Rochi. The song was an old folksong and Gerard took up the verse, lending his voice to that of the old veteran's. First a whisper.

"~Down the tunnel road and out through the rain/ Says the child in blue, face a muddy red rue/ Little turnip lantern shall you take me with you?~"

He gently shook Klem, snoozing on his shoulder like she always did, and roused her as he continued singing. He knew she loved these kinds of things and would not want to miss it. Then he began to sing louder in a smooth baritone as more voices shared in the tune.

"~Then come, oh wand'ring stranger/ Through the starless night and the dark nowhere/ Come and follow this turnip lantern home.~"

Adalicia turned to her platoon as she all gave them a nod. "Fix your bayonets and get those gas masks ready, in a few minutes we'll give those bastards a Bolwerc welcome! Find a partner and check each other's gear, make sure you have a buddy because two Bolwercs is always better than one!" She shouted out the order and had it passed along the line as she sighed out, the moment of combat was night and the jitters before the storm came.

Click to shrink...

They departed the train, Gerard carrying his gear in a rucksack, and other easily reachable places. Strapped to his armor or tied down by rope and spit.

He fastened the gasmask over his face at the Sergeant's order, then placed a large hand on his wife's shoulder. He was smiling behind the gasmask's leather and steel, but his voice was unmistakably tender.

"You and I as always, Kitten."

"Listen closely Guardsman Stocker, Guardsman Rochi here spotted a weapons team down the middle where we are right now. There's eight-meters between us and their lines, the heavy stubber won't be much of a problem because of our armor but it'll be a nuisance. The real threats are the grenade launcher and the possibility of a flamer being there, the latter being far more dangerous as it'll roast us alive before we even get in that trench." She explained to the brute of a man before catching her breath.

"Load a frag missile into your launcher and as soon as the order to charge is given I want you to take that team out as best you can, got it?" She said to him as she looked him straight in the eye before turning back to Valentin.

Click to shrink...

Gerard peered at the heretic line but could not distinguish traitor from traitor. He might as well have pointed at random to find Bolwerc among the stars. But he brought his launcher to bear and loaded a Frag missile as Malstrom began to relay orders to Rochi.

He finished the loading process just as Gertsch came up to the Sergeant. Gerard clapped the quieter man on the back as they passed each other, and he faced the Sergeant and the grenadier beside her.

"Do not fear, good sers! My missiles shall rain death and destruction upon the traitor scum long before they turn their wretched weapons upon you!"

 

[greendoor]

The shelling stops suddenly, plunging the trench into an almost eery quiet-the LT glances at his Chrono, then, nodding to Sergeant Malstrom to confirm her orders, shouts into his microbead and to you "Over the top! At them, for Bolwerc and Imperium!" And with that, he hauls himself over the top of the trench, Chainsword held high, waiting for you to follow.

(OOC: Combat will work like this-everyone will post their actions and roll them as appropriate-after everyone (Or a majority and enough time has passed) I will roll initiative for the round for everyone, and act out the chosen actions and their consequences.)

 

[Shephard]

Adalicia gripped the Glaive tightly as she turned around and looked up at Valentin. "Yes Guardsman Rochi?" She asked before she listened in.

"Weapons team you say? They aren't spread out? Hmmm...Good call Guardsman Rochi, I praise you for your sharp eyes and mind." She said to him with a nod before turning her head to the line.

Click to shrink...

"One more thing, sergeant." He says. "I talked to a PDF trooper on the way over here. He mentioned that the enemy may be dropping some mortars on us once we get near the top of the hill. May want to mention it to the lieutenant so he can keep an eye out, sir."

The shelling stops suddenly, plunging the trench into an almost eery quiet-the LT glances at his Chrono, then, nodding to Sergeant Malstrom to confirm her orders, shouts into his microbead and to you "Over the top! At them, for Bolwerc and Imperium!" And with that, he hauls himself over the top of the trench, Chainsword held high, waiting for you to follow.

Click to shrink...

"Bolwerc and Imperium!" Valentin growls out, pulling himself over the trench.

@Arvin_Larn

"Stick with me, son, and fire as you go! Don't run now, you'll lose your footing in the mud! Follow me to that second tree on the left!" Valentin bellows as he strides forward at quick pace, bringing the stock of his lasgun against his shoulder to fire as he went. "Bringer of death speak your name, for you are my life and the foe's death!"

The lasgun howls on full auto, steam filling the air where the bolts struck the falling rain, smoke rising as the burst burned black holes into their trench works. Ineffective fire-But that was one of the great things about las-weapons. It was hard to run out of ammo for them.

 

[Arvin_Larn]

@Kharn_Valnikov

Henrik felt someone prodding him and turned to face the culprit, coming face-to-face with Adalicia as she spoke up. He grinned back, returning the affectionate tap to his arm with a gloved fist to the Sergeant's pauldron.

"Likewise, Lady Adalicia. And I hope to impress, with any luck." The Specialist replies, chuckling.

@Shephard @greendoor

"That is true, Valentin, but that doesn't mean that I don't respect you and the experience you bring to this Squad." Henrik replies with a smile that was immediately covered as the Specialist donned his own gas mask.

"Besides, I myself may be of Noble birth but that matters little here. The Fallow care little for whether we are of Nobility or not." His muffled voice carried through the gas mask. Valentin wouldn't need to remove the mask to see the wry grin underneath it.

Henrik uttered a silent prayer as the shelling stopped, pulling out his bayonet and sliding it in front of his Lascarbine with a soft CLICK. He waited as the seconds ticked by to the beat of his racing heart. It was funny how time seemed to slow down, an eternity spent waiting for the order to go over the top.

And then it came, almost from nowhere, as Savatier's voice pierced through the silence in his mind thanks to his ears' internal commbead system. The Specialist vaulted over the parapet with a grunt, following the sound of Valentin's voice as he kept stride with the older Guardsman.

"Let's go get the bastards!" He roared at the top of his lungs, only for that to be drowned by the sound of Lasfire as he snapped up his own Lascarbine and started shooting. Red hot fury lanced forth from the muzzle towards the Cultists' trenchline, accomplishing little except scorching the earth and kicking up dirt with the impacts.

Henrik immediately slid behind the fallen tree that Valentin had pointed out, seeing the veteran Guardsman already there as he scooted closer before taking a peek over the trunk.

"I don't like the look of that barbed wire! There's only one gap in it that will funnel us all into a single killing zone!" He hollers over the gunfire, slipping back behind cover as he does so.

 

[Caarn]

"One more thing, sergeant." He says. "I talked to a PDF trooper on the way over here. He mentioned that the enemy may be dropping some mortars on us once we get near the top of the hill. May want to mention it to the lieutenant so he can keep an eye out, sir."

Click to shrink...

"I'll say it as soon as were done here, thanks for the heads up Guardsman." She said to him as the sound of the shells of pounding the heretic position stopped.

The shelling stops suddenly, plunging the trench into an almost eery quiet-the LT glances at his Chrono, then, nodding to Sergeant Malstrom to confirm her orders, shouts into his microbead and to you "Over the top! At them, for Bolwerc and Imperium!" And with that, he hauls himself over the top of the trench, Chainsword held high, waiting for you to follow.

(OOC: Combat will work like this-everyone will post their actions and roll them as appropriate-after everyone (Or a majority and enough time has passed) I will roll initiative for the round for everyone, and act out the chosen actions and their consequences.)

Click to shrink...

Nodding back she then turned on her Chain glaive, the weapon roaring to life as she turned to her fellow Bolwercs. "TIME TO GET STUCK IN!!" She roared as she raised the polearm before following the Lieutenant over the trench, to her side she watched as Gertsch sprung up even more quickly than her as he then ran off to a tree far forward to that of Rochi and Lundberg's position.

"Lieutenant! The traitors have mortars that will start dropping on us once we get too close, First platoon I want all of you to start ducking and running a tad faster once you hear the whistle of a mortar!" She shouted through the comms, looking back she watched as the others started making their way out. Adalicia far more concerned about Gerard Stocker as she waited for him to fire that missile.

 

[Kensai]

Cinis shook her head like a wet puppy when the shelling stopped. Of course, nobody'd bothered to tell her what to do, but she knew from training back at the depot that she had the longlas for a reason, and that reason wasn't so she had a longer spear for running up to the enemy.

Anyway she'd known even as a little youngin that you waited and took only the good shots. It was strange how her squadmates just ripped off streams of fire in the vague direction of the enemy. Well, that'd just tell them they were getting shot at, and they'd hunker down in their trenches - sure, that was the idea, to keep their heads down so we could get to them... but still, it wasn't what she'd always known.

Maybe it was just the noise of the shelling that made her head hurt.

So she figured she'd just do what she did best.

She pushed the rim of her helmet back so it stayed out of the way of her scope, and she lined up her shot. The sergeant'd said something about a flamer, so she looked out for the tell-tale pilot light. Maybe she could take that one out first.

 

[Mina]

The Lieutenant rolls up the map, and says "If you hurry-we should arriving in less than half an hour. Prepare yourselves-eat, pray, check your weapons-just be ready, First Platoon."

Click to shrink...

Klem barely managed a muffled "Yes sah," already tearing in to a packet of reserved rations, saved for this very purpose. She may have been tiny but that came with a ferocious furnace of an appetite, made all the more in need of stoking by the prospect of a run in the mud with a gun. It was a mechanical act, no poetry or savoring to it, just food, mouth-hole, gulp, repeat. She licked a crumb off the upper edge of her breastplate and grinned. Still had twenty-five left to pray and make sure the stubber was ready to kill.

The shelling stops suddenly, plunging the trench into an almost eery quiet-the LT glances at his Chrono, then, nodding to Sergeant Malstrom to confirm her orders, shouts into his microbead and to you "Over the top! At them, for Bolwerc and Imperium!" And with that, he hauls himself over the top of the trench, Chainsword held high, waiting for you to follow.

Click to shrink...

Waiting at the base of the ladder Klem could feel herself sinking deeper and deeper in to the mud. Her boots sucked as she stepped up, then back down, praying she didn't lose them in the muck before even making it out of the trench. Gerard was near, but with armor, pack and gasmask there wasn't much to be done or said but add him to her prayers along with the boots and stubber. It was a credit to him that he edged out the weapon for primacy under the circumstances.

The call went up, and so did they. She didn't spare breath for a shout, letting the lasmen and grenadiers fill the air with noise while she followed them over, grunting and snarling. A few were making their way left, so she broke right and rabbited for cover. The traitors would only be able to cover so much of the field with that gun, Emperor allowing they didn't have a blessed tripod. She wished she had a tripod. Or maybe just a Chimera. Not having to carry the damn--that was a foot trying to get away.

Nope, focus on the run, not the gun. Then you won't slip and crack another tooth on it. Just hit cover. Just. Hit. Cover.

 

[greendoor]

@Shephard @Kensai @SirLagginton @Arvin_Larn @Mina @Zeitgeist Blue @Kharn_Valnikov

At the signal, almost everyone pulls themselves over the top at once. And then the world was chaos and mud-both sides open with las and autoguns, drowning out the world in the thunder of guns. Rounds thump into the dense mud as Bolwerc's scramble into cover, and bounce off helmets and breastplates. One round flattens against Adalicia's flak cap, shaking her slightly.

The Heavy stubber gunner is struck several times in the head and arms by lasgun shots, slumping over his gun in pain. Kristen thuds into cover next to Henrik and Valentin, saying "Huh-that worked."-before kissing her Aquila and pressing herself against the felled log all three use for cover.

The LT runs forward, a too quiet battlecry drowned out by the gunfire and yelling, and takes cover in the front of the advancing squads, several rounds bouncing off his armor. He rises up to yell some command or encouragement-but a heavy round strikes him dead in the jaw, sending him tumbling back in shock. "Sniper!" he manages to yell, then decides instead take cover, a thin amount of blood leaking out from where the bullet struck his reinforced skull.

More fire tears up Klementina's position, tearing up her cover and striking both her and a Lasman from a different squad who takes cover next to her several times-both shake off the hits, only slightly shaken. A grenade detonates just to their rear, and shrapnel pings off their armor to no effect.

Cinis takes a shot at the Flamer operator, but he turns to say something to the next cultist, at the wrong second, resulting in the shot striking his improvised helmet-he rocks back, injured badly, but still in the fight.

(OOC: top of next round, Kharn lost 1 wound)

 

[Shephard]

Valentin's head snaps up, scanning for the source of the shot. There, the glint of a coward's rifle scope.

"Sniper's in that...Cabin?" Valentin calls out. "Building behind the trenchline!" He snaps his rifle up, firing a quick burst down range. Peering through the smoke and rain, he could still make out the shadow of the hostile. "No effect on target! Somebody kill that coward!"

 

[Arvin_Larn]

@greendoor
Henrik grinned, in spite of the bedlam of battle happening all around him, as he finds vindication his decision to have his ears cybernetically augmented. The rattle of gunfire from Heretic and Bolwere alike were dampened but so too did the dull THUMP of Kristen leaping into cover next to him, whom he noticed only after glancing to his side for a moment.

"Ha, thank the Emperor and His Saints then!" The Specialist chuckles back in reply as the Guardswoman states her disbelief in her apparently foolhardy plan. He then hazards a peek up from the log they were hunkering behind, seeing the muzzle flash of the Heretics' Autoguns in the dugouts in front of them. A loud CRACK pierces through the air, followed by alarmed cries from Savatier and Valentin about Snipers, before the young man ducks back to safety while clicking his tongue in dismay as he finds the distance far too great still for Grenades.

@Shephard
"Cover me, I'm moving up!" Henrik hollers to Kristen and Valentin as he vaults over the log they were hiding behind, advancing at a hasty clip while unloading a burst from his Lascarbine into the Cultists' ranks; every single Lasbolt missing the loathsome Heretics entirely. He all but leaps beside Lieutenant Savatier as they both hunker down behind the log in front for protection.

"Good day, Lieutenant! I reckon I can move up and start cutting gaps in the razor wire for us to move through, but first I'll need smoke to conceal myself." He says, gloved hands reaching into his rigging in search of a Smoke Grenade.