By the Will of the Machine God
- Thread starter Khororhoth
- Start date
- What if? Sci-Fi
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your vote is missing a [ in the X for the counter to count it
[X] Plan: Building Domes and Denying the Warp
[x] Plan prepping for safe research
Vote closed
- Pronouns
- Kho
Research: L̸̨̢̺̻̬͍̦̥̱͓͉̗̬̣̈́̆͋̿̈̓̽͜i̵͉̪͚̦̹̔̈́̆͆͛͆ǩ̸̺͎̭͉̈̽͐̌͒̈́̓͋͋̄͐̇͗̚͝͠è̶̠͈̲͂͂̏̎̅͆͒̇̚ ̷̧̲̟̝̅͗̊̑̀̐̀̋͒͆̚Î̵̲͖̣͈̰̤̻̦͕̯͈͉̊̊̂͋͜͝͝ ̴̨̢̢̛̫̠̺̺͔̮͎̱̹̥̭̲̿̉͗̾̾̀̊̈́͆͑͒̽̚͝͠͠w̶̛͖̻͇̦̣̬̻̰̻̙̯̪͌̍ơ̶̡̱̳̣͔̱̝̲͇͓͈̭̹͈̱̰̒̉̏̍͐̃̇͆̓͋̿̾́̚ų̷̯̮̻͚͙͎̦̙̮̣̦̞̋̀̓͋̓́̋̉̆̕̕̕͜l̴̬̾͆̽̎̈̋̏̿̏͊̉̅̂̚̚͠͝ḑ̸̨̢̻̗̱̘̤̙̙̫̲̲̞̈́͂́͝ ̷̢̰̥̞̗̝̤́̎̽̈́̈́̾̋͗͘͘͝l̵̢̧̺͍̹̰̪̭͙̗̼̳͚̗͗̽̽͜͜e̵͍̅͌́͊̈͂͌̈́̿̾͛̄͋͐̈̕͠t̶̛̤̺̗̬͇͎͙̤̯̗̝̭̼̣̞̥̍͐̃͛̊̓́͆̀̿͂̈̕̚ ̵̺̙̥̅̋̆̀̈̐̏̾̃͐̅̃͋͊̽͝y̴͚̗͆̈̃̽̽̑ó̸̢̧̫̲̩͎̲̱͈͆̏̕͠͝u̸̧̺͙̻̩̫̜̓̈́̾̀͂͌͝.̶̨͚̠̪̪͈̰̟̦͕̫̙͔̥̮͉̱͑̀́͋͜͝
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Thank the Machine god that only double numbers count
- Location
- Classified
Khorne, head smashing through the wall: Are you sure about that?
- Location
- Anchorage, Alaska
man khorne has been paying allot of attention to us, ironically i would think the mollusk would have been doing this...honeslty, best daemons to deal with this shit, because they have anti-sorcery fuckery, which means the more the wards hurt the daemons the better it will affect the other three.
- Location
- Classified
What exactly is the difference between the Skitarii and the Autokrator? Because we're going to need to link up with one of them to make those Military stations cheaper.
@Khororhoth
@Khororhoth
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- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
At this rate, we'll need to put all three actions into military stations.
I mean, mechanics post said so:
That was literaly the first turn thing.
Not, 6,7,8,9,66, 77, 88 and 99. Just double numbers
- Location
- Warsaw
- Pronouns
- Kho
If it had been any other decade, it would have only warned Khorne about what we were doing. Your luck just ran out.
That is still a rather high bar for you to meet just yet. Yeah, this is going to hurt.
- Pronouns
- Viewer
We should probably do the military stations to reduce the damage of the four's attention if we don't want to have to keep rebuilding each turn this happens or if we fail to contain it
Seems a bit iffy to me, but it is your quest and you are free to break the rules, I guess [Pouts]
088.30M | The Slaughter of the Castellum
- Pronouns
- Kho
Magos Majoris Iomene-35 did not need emotion to understand the dire nature of what was unfolding. The wards on every level flickered and faltered, overwhelmed by the impossible surge of power that tore through the fabric of reality. The Warp Geiger's warning klaxons screamed across the Castellum, drowning out all other sound.
The bloodthirsty laughter of the Immaterium echoed throughout the halls, followed by the stomping march of war.
Vehlaris-00302 stood at the head of his battle-automata cohort, issuing binary orders as the Castellum's forces scrambled to meet the incursion. Hexagrammic wards glowed along the sleek chassis of the automata, their forms designed to withstand psychic interference. But this was no petty incursion—The wrath of the Realm of War had gathered strength, and 88 Bloodletters now prowled through the sanctified halls, swinging hell-forged blades that cut through steel and ward alike.
The first wave hit Chamber Theta. The battle-automata engaged immediately, sending bursts of plasma fire and volkite beams into the red-skinned horrors. Yet for every Bloodletter destroyed, two more leapt forward, their daemonic swords howling with unholy energy, slicing through automata with ease.
Vehlaris cursed in binary. The enemy was tearing through them faster than expected. These weren't ordinary warp incursions—they were shock troops of the Realm of War, and they fought not only to kill but to desecrate. No ground was won, only stolen.
Iomene-35 coordinated from the primary cogitation core, her mechadendrites plugged directly into the Castellum's central command system. The Greater Machine Spirit systems were strained, processing thousands of combat feeds simultaneously, calculating probabilities of survival, and coordinating fire teams and automata units. For every data-packet fed to her, she made a decision—who lived, who died, where to fortify, and where to abandon.
The Castellum's layout, designed for exploration and containment, not war, became a disadvantage. Entire hallways had to be sealed off, locking out the advancing daemons—but also trapping personnel. Sacrifices had to be made.
"We bleed today," Iomene whispered, voice laden with synthetic coldness, "so that we do not bleed tomorrow."
But the Bloodletters were not merely physical threats. Their presence corrupted the Machine Spirits, gnawing at the heart of the Castellum's sacred infrastructure. Servo-skulls malfunctioned, security doors opened at random, and turrets targeted friendly units as the daemonic presence wormed its way into the station's machine-soul. The Castellum was bleeding from within.
The Cogitation Core housed the most sacred of data matrices, the heart of the Empyric Engineers' research. If the Bloodletters reached it, decades of progress would be obliterated in moments—and worse, the corrupted systems could become conduits for future warp incursions.
Magos Majoris Vehlaris-00302 knew what had to be done. He would not let the Machine God's work be defiled.
"Redirect automata reinforcements. Hold the core at all costs. We cannot allow them to claim it."
The automata reinforcements, battle-worn and damaged, took up positions along the core's access halls, their warded chassis sparking from earlier battles. Behind them, Magos Vehlaris and a group of tech-priests readied their final defenses, chanting litanies of fortification even as the psychic strain weighed upon their minds. The Warp Geiger's needle quivered dangerously close to the red zone.
The Bloodletters stormed the corridor, their blades blazing with warp-flame, each step pounding like the beat of a war drum. The automata opened fire, filling the hall with roaring plasma blasts and the hiss of volkite beams. But the minions of the Realm of War reveled in the carnage, cutting down the automata as if they were mere toys.
Vehlaris knew their doom was approaching, but retreat was not an option.
"For the Machine God," he whispered, locking his optical sensors onto the Bloodletters as they charged.
With a single gesture, he ordered the last automata unit—a heavily damaged siege-automaton—to detonate its plasma core. The resulting explosion engulfed the corridor in searing light, vaporizing both friend and foe alike.
Silence fell over the Castellum—an unnatural silence, heavy with the stench of burned metal and daemonic ichor. The cost had been staggering. The battle-automata forces were all but annihilated, and many tech-priests lay dead or broken, their minds shattered by the psychic onslaught.
But the Cogitation Core remained intact. The knowledge was preserved. The Castellum had endured, bloodied but unbroken.
Vehlaris-00302 staggered through the wreckage, his robes scorched and his limbs damaged from the blast. He stepped over the remains of automata, the red runes of their hexagrammic wards flickering weakly. The Machine God's work continued, but at great cost.
Magos Iomene-35's voice crackled over the vox-link, weary but resolute.
"We survive."
Vehlaris nodded, though no one could see. Survival was not enough. The incursion had shown them their vulnerabilities, and now those flaws had to be corrected. The Castellum would not fall again.
The halls would be cleansed. The defenses rebuilt. The Machine Spirits soothed. And when next the denizens of the Immaterium dared challenge the Empyric Engiseers, they would be met with cold iron, burning plasma, and unyielding faith.
The bloodthirsty laughter of the Immaterium echoed throughout the halls, followed by the stomping march of war.
🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸
Vehlaris-00302 stood at the head of his battle-automata cohort, issuing binary orders as the Castellum's forces scrambled to meet the incursion. Hexagrammic wards glowed along the sleek chassis of the automata, their forms designed to withstand psychic interference. But this was no petty incursion—The wrath of the Realm of War had gathered strength, and 88 Bloodletters now prowled through the sanctified halls, swinging hell-forged blades that cut through steel and ward alike.
The first wave hit Chamber Theta. The battle-automata engaged immediately, sending bursts of plasma fire and volkite beams into the red-skinned horrors. Yet for every Bloodletter destroyed, two more leapt forward, their daemonic swords howling with unholy energy, slicing through automata with ease.
Vehlaris cursed in binary. The enemy was tearing through them faster than expected. These weren't ordinary warp incursions—they were shock troops of the Realm of War, and they fought not only to kill but to desecrate. No ground was won, only stolen.
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
Iomene-35 coordinated from the primary cogitation core, her mechadendrites plugged directly into the Castellum's central command system. The Greater Machine Spirit systems were strained, processing thousands of combat feeds simultaneously, calculating probabilities of survival, and coordinating fire teams and automata units. For every data-packet fed to her, she made a decision—who lived, who died, where to fortify, and where to abandon.
The Castellum's layout, designed for exploration and containment, not war, became a disadvantage. Entire hallways had to be sealed off, locking out the advancing daemons—but also trapping personnel. Sacrifices had to be made.
"We bleed today," Iomene whispered, voice laden with synthetic coldness, "so that we do not bleed tomorrow."
But the Bloodletters were not merely physical threats. Their presence corrupted the Machine Spirits, gnawing at the heart of the Castellum's sacred infrastructure. Servo-skulls malfunctioned, security doors opened at random, and turrets targeted friendly units as the daemonic presence wormed its way into the station's machine-soul. The Castellum was bleeding from within.
🩸🩸⚙️🩸🩸
The Cogitation Core housed the most sacred of data matrices, the heart of the Empyric Engineers' research. If the Bloodletters reached it, decades of progress would be obliterated in moments—and worse, the corrupted systems could become conduits for future warp incursions.
Magos Majoris Vehlaris-00302 knew what had to be done. He would not let the Machine God's work be defiled.
"Redirect automata reinforcements. Hold the core at all costs. We cannot allow them to claim it."
🩸⚙️🩸⚙️🩸
The automata reinforcements, battle-worn and damaged, took up positions along the core's access halls, their warded chassis sparking from earlier battles. Behind them, Magos Vehlaris and a group of tech-priests readied their final defenses, chanting litanies of fortification even as the psychic strain weighed upon their minds. The Warp Geiger's needle quivered dangerously close to the red zone.
The Bloodletters stormed the corridor, their blades blazing with warp-flame, each step pounding like the beat of a war drum. The automata opened fire, filling the hall with roaring plasma blasts and the hiss of volkite beams. But the minions of the Realm of War reveled in the carnage, cutting down the automata as if they were mere toys.
Vehlaris knew their doom was approaching, but retreat was not an option.
"For the Machine God," he whispered, locking his optical sensors onto the Bloodletters as they charged.
With a single gesture, he ordered the last automata unit—a heavily damaged siege-automaton—to detonate its plasma core. The resulting explosion engulfed the corridor in searing light, vaporizing both friend and foe alike.
⚙️⚙️🩸⚙️⚙️
The explosion bought enough time. Iomene-35, still embedded in the core's command systems, executed the final phase of her emergency protocol. Localized hexagrammic wards flared to life, severing the warp-breach and sending the surviving Bloodletters howling back into the Immaterium.
Silence fell over the Castellum—an unnatural silence, heavy with the stench of burned metal and daemonic ichor. The cost had been staggering. The battle-automata forces were all but annihilated, and many tech-priests lay dead or broken, their minds shattered by the psychic onslaught.
But the Cogitation Core remained intact. The knowledge was preserved. The Castellum had endured, bloodied but unbroken.
⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️
Vehlaris-00302 staggered through the wreckage, his robes scorched and his limbs damaged from the blast. He stepped over the remains of automata, the red runes of their hexagrammic wards flickering weakly. The Machine God's work continued, but at great cost.
Magos Iomene-35's voice crackled over the vox-link, weary but resolute.
"We survive."
Vehlaris nodded, though no one could see. Survival was not enough. The incursion had shown them their vulnerabilities, and now those flaws had to be corrected. The Castellum would not fall again.
The halls would be cleansed. The defenses rebuilt. The Machine Spirits soothed. And when next the denizens of the Immaterium dared challenge the Empyric Engiseers, they would be met with cold iron, burning plasma, and unyielding faith.
- Location
- Warsaw
Did we at least get the wards upgraded? Or was this all around a wrecking ball to our progress?
lets go for round 3, have them send 888 bloodletters next time
Nah, we'll win
- Location
- Classified
Well, we're alive, at least.
Refilling the ranks is going to eat one action, and we need to at least start on military stations. The question is the third action. Do we double down on basing, get help from the Skitarii/Autokrator, or develop more doctrines?
Refilling the ranks is going to eat one action, and we need to at least start on military stations. The question is the third action. Do we double down on basing, get help from the Skitarii/Autokrator, or develop more doctrines?