Renegade Sorceress Quest [40K]
- Thread starter Alectai
- Start date
- Location
- Philippines
[X]All In
- Location
- Australia
So I made a DeviantArt account, but I can't find any "PM" button. Is it a "Note"?
Thunderhead: Clash
Alectai
Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion
"A fair effort, but if that is the limit of your skills, then I suspect I'll be finishing up here soon enough."
As the Fallen said that, armor snarling, Sergeant Blake made his move. There was an accord amongst his Kill-Team and these newfound 'Storm Crows' that they must strike as soon as possible, drown the warlord in bodies where skill is lacking. And for all that he despises the traitorous enemy, he does not underestimate them. This warlord, this Vixabis… he is definitely his better in the art of blades.
But not in Courage or Honor.
The Emperor guides him this day. Be it the debris, the assault of that Terminator, or the traitor's own hubris, Blake strikes first. He is silent – the first lesson the Deathwatch taught him is the knowledge of when to be the storm, and when to be the wind – as his shoulder plate slams into the traitor's plastron, crashing like thunder. The traitor catches his blow easily, but his counterslash is easily dodged by a step to the side.
"Do you mean the slow entropic decay of all existence, or before my Lord Primarch emerges from his slumber and smites all of you?" He retorts. A bad habit, learned from that bloody crow Andrulf – but anything to spite this betrayer of brothers. "Enunciate, heretic, before I cut your tongue out!"
The Psyker-Captain of the Storm Crows raised her hand--bands of glowing force snapping in place across the Fallen Champion's arms--and shattered a moment later as his sword struck the construct. This threw him off of balance though--and this was something that would not go unpunished for long.
Two bursts of white-hot radiation as Lilith skidded to a halt just out of the Fallen Champion's reach, her Combi-Melta firing both cylinders into Vixabis. His sword lashed outwards--and a force field erupted in opposition to the bursts, but it was not able to do much more than bleed off the worst of the damage, as his cloak burned and his armour's heraldry melted away.
Vixabis takes One Wound!
"You're beginning to become a pest"
Vixabis does not snarl. He does not roar, he does not curse. He simply replies, gruff and hateful. "Either way, blind fool, our victory is assured."
He breaks their clash of blades with a single motion, forcing open a hole in Blake's guard. And he thrusts with the tip of his spear, blazing with the cold shimmer of a power field.
A lesser Space Marine would have died then and there. But Sergeant Blake is of the Deathwatch. And he is an Ultramarine. Death comes only after Courage and Honor.
He swerves out of the way, ignoring the warning runes before him. Manoeuvring thrusters fire, launching him out the path of the lunging sword, giving him the slightest edge he needs. Blake pulls the Combat Knife from his belt, a sheet of steel as long as a man's forearm and honed to a monomolecular edge, and thrusts forward with one hand, the other hand guarding with his blade.
The Fallen Angel disarms him easily with a backswing. Only Blake's skill ensures all he loses is a knife, not a hand.
"Clever, for a stiff bureaucrat," Vixabis says. Blake bristles, and holds his fury tight. The arrogance. "But do you think that manoeuvre is new to me?"
"Perhaps not," Blake snarls. "But do you think I stand alone?"
A Stalker Boltgun fired, a Vengeance Round chambered--and met the Vixabis' blade, the Bolt deflected in a display of peerless accuracy... Directly into the face of Lilith--who stumbled back, even as it bounced off of her helmet, leaving a sizable dent in the forehead. "No, you'd be dead by now if you did".
This was the chance that Uriel was waiting for--the Son of Dorn having been watching the battle carefully, waiting for a chance to join the melee--and seizing it when Vixabis conducted his deflection--and thus, turned his attention away from that avenue of battle for a mere moment. His Chainsword roared--and carved a fissure in the Dark Angel's midsection, where armored ceramite gave way to synthetic muscle and carbon--and a much softer target on top of that.
Vixabis Takes One Wound!
Vixabis grunts at the blow, even as his flesh starts to knit together again – a gift of his augmented physiology, Blake notes, not a power granted by his foul gods. Good. He shall soon fall. The Deathwatch taught him when to be as the storm, and when to be as the wind.
Now was the time to be as the storm.
"Is this the finest you can muster?!" He shouts, arms wide and tone dripping with mockery. He must dare the warlord into making the first assault. Only then will his guard be open. "Only fitting that you serve your false gods! The only way you can make par is with foul contracts and cursed weaponry!"
The Fallen Angel says nothing. There is nothing more to say. He simply lurches to his feet, back hunched, shoulders bunched, sword at the ready. The world slows to a crawl around Blake. Sorcery, he ponders? No, it is his instincts. His mind, accelerated by stimulants of his own post-human body's making. Danger approaches.
In point-oh-two seconds, his instincts tell him, Vixabis the Fallen will dive for his neck.
The warlord launches at him, the ground beneath him screaming and roaring, like the bark of an Earthshaker. Blake does not raise his sword in guard. There is no time for that, and he cannot evade this blow anyways. This battle will be a contest of reaction and reading. And like all true sons of Guilliman, Sergeant Blake of the Ultramarines is a learned scholar.
They clash.
His sword sings the peaceful melody of Macragge's March. Vixabis' blade howls the mournful, blood-soaked elegy of a once-noble knight who turned to the darkness.
Blake hears the rents in his armor as it comes apart. Feels pain explode all over his body, intensified tenfold where the traitor's sword cuts him.
Sergeant Blake sheathes his blade, and looks back to see Vixabis the Fallen, twice-Fallen now, in the grips of his Sus-An Membrane.
"Take him," Blake orders. He reaches for the skin-spray on his belt – wounds from a blade like that will not heal easily, or at all. "He dies when we want him to, and not a second before or after."
Operation Thunderhead: Mission Complete
Primary Objective: Seize the Thunderhead Fortress----CLEAR
Secondary Objective: The Last Dancer Must Survive----CLEAR
Secondary Objective: Seize Admiral Vixabis Alive----CLEAR
Secondary Objective: Minimize Damage to Thunderhead Fortress---CLEAR
Mission Rank: A
As the Fallen said that, armor snarling, Sergeant Blake made his move. There was an accord amongst his Kill-Team and these newfound 'Storm Crows' that they must strike as soon as possible, drown the warlord in bodies where skill is lacking. And for all that he despises the traitorous enemy, he does not underestimate them. This warlord, this Vixabis… he is definitely his better in the art of blades.
But not in Courage or Honor.
The Emperor guides him this day. Be it the debris, the assault of that Terminator, or the traitor's own hubris, Blake strikes first. He is silent – the first lesson the Deathwatch taught him is the knowledge of when to be the storm, and when to be the wind – as his shoulder plate slams into the traitor's plastron, crashing like thunder. The traitor catches his blow easily, but his counterslash is easily dodged by a step to the side.
"Do you mean the slow entropic decay of all existence, or before my Lord Primarch emerges from his slumber and smites all of you?" He retorts. A bad habit, learned from that bloody crow Andrulf – but anything to spite this betrayer of brothers. "Enunciate, heretic, before I cut your tongue out!"
The Psyker-Captain of the Storm Crows raised her hand--bands of glowing force snapping in place across the Fallen Champion's arms--and shattered a moment later as his sword struck the construct. This threw him off of balance though--and this was something that would not go unpunished for long.
Two bursts of white-hot radiation as Lilith skidded to a halt just out of the Fallen Champion's reach, her Combi-Melta firing both cylinders into Vixabis. His sword lashed outwards--and a force field erupted in opposition to the bursts, but it was not able to do much more than bleed off the worst of the damage, as his cloak burned and his armour's heraldry melted away.
Vixabis takes One Wound!
"You're beginning to become a pest"
Vixabis does not snarl. He does not roar, he does not curse. He simply replies, gruff and hateful. "Either way, blind fool, our victory is assured."
He breaks their clash of blades with a single motion, forcing open a hole in Blake's guard. And he thrusts with the tip of his spear, blazing with the cold shimmer of a power field.
A lesser Space Marine would have died then and there. But Sergeant Blake is of the Deathwatch. And he is an Ultramarine. Death comes only after Courage and Honor.
He swerves out of the way, ignoring the warning runes before him. Manoeuvring thrusters fire, launching him out the path of the lunging sword, giving him the slightest edge he needs. Blake pulls the Combat Knife from his belt, a sheet of steel as long as a man's forearm and honed to a monomolecular edge, and thrusts forward with one hand, the other hand guarding with his blade.
The Fallen Angel disarms him easily with a backswing. Only Blake's skill ensures all he loses is a knife, not a hand.
"Clever, for a stiff bureaucrat," Vixabis says. Blake bristles, and holds his fury tight. The arrogance. "But do you think that manoeuvre is new to me?"
"Perhaps not," Blake snarls. "But do you think I stand alone?"
A Stalker Boltgun fired, a Vengeance Round chambered--and met the Vixabis' blade, the Bolt deflected in a display of peerless accuracy... Directly into the face of Lilith--who stumbled back, even as it bounced off of her helmet, leaving a sizable dent in the forehead. "No, you'd be dead by now if you did".
This was the chance that Uriel was waiting for--the Son of Dorn having been watching the battle carefully, waiting for a chance to join the melee--and seizing it when Vixabis conducted his deflection--and thus, turned his attention away from that avenue of battle for a mere moment. His Chainsword roared--and carved a fissure in the Dark Angel's midsection, where armored ceramite gave way to synthetic muscle and carbon--and a much softer target on top of that.
Vixabis Takes One Wound!
Vixabis grunts at the blow, even as his flesh starts to knit together again – a gift of his augmented physiology, Blake notes, not a power granted by his foul gods. Good. He shall soon fall. The Deathwatch taught him when to be as the storm, and when to be as the wind.
Now was the time to be as the storm.
"Is this the finest you can muster?!" He shouts, arms wide and tone dripping with mockery. He must dare the warlord into making the first assault. Only then will his guard be open. "Only fitting that you serve your false gods! The only way you can make par is with foul contracts and cursed weaponry!"
The Fallen Angel says nothing. There is nothing more to say. He simply lurches to his feet, back hunched, shoulders bunched, sword at the ready. The world slows to a crawl around Blake. Sorcery, he ponders? No, it is his instincts. His mind, accelerated by stimulants of his own post-human body's making. Danger approaches.
In point-oh-two seconds, his instincts tell him, Vixabis the Fallen will dive for his neck.
The warlord launches at him, the ground beneath him screaming and roaring, like the bark of an Earthshaker. Blake does not raise his sword in guard. There is no time for that, and he cannot evade this blow anyways. This battle will be a contest of reaction and reading. And like all true sons of Guilliman, Sergeant Blake of the Ultramarines is a learned scholar.
They clash.
His sword sings the peaceful melody of Macragge's March. Vixabis' blade howls the mournful, blood-soaked elegy of a once-noble knight who turned to the darkness.
Blake hears the rents in his armor as it comes apart. Feels pain explode all over his body, intensified tenfold where the traitor's sword cuts him.
Sergeant Blake sheathes his blade, and looks back to see Vixabis the Fallen, twice-Fallen now, in the grips of his Sus-An Membrane.
"Take him," Blake orders. He reaches for the skin-spray on his belt – wounds from a blade like that will not heal easily, or at all. "He dies when we want him to, and not a second before or after."
Operation Thunderhead: Mission Complete
Primary Objective: Seize the Thunderhead Fortress----CLEAR
Secondary Objective: The Last Dancer Must Survive----CLEAR
Secondary Objective: Seize Admiral Vixabis Alive----CLEAR
Secondary Objective: Minimize Damage to Thunderhead Fortress---CLEAR
Mission Rank: A
Alectai
Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion
You can thank Blake for rocking the last exchange, dealing exactly enough Wounds to the guy to knock him out without killing him outright.
And then Vix successfully made his "Don't Die" roll.
This was a very risky choice you made here. It's just that lots of people had really bad rolls, and that meant that you couldn't see exactly what made Vix a squad killer (Specifically, if he can't hit you in melee with Battle Reflex, he can use it on your ranged attack instead, and his Daemon Sword lets him do this to energy attacks too. He very well could have deflected Lilith's melta shots into Blake and killed him outright, but he flunked both of his parries there)
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- Location
- England
Once again, the RNG makes the Storm Crows utterly invincible.
Praise be! We serve not the Chaos gods or the false Emperor, but the Dice Gods themselves!
Praise be! We serve not the Chaos gods or the false Emperor, but the Dice Gods themselves!
Just for some context, how much risk is involved in containing and interrogating him?
Z000
If this is trash, then find me in the dumpster
- Location
- Viet Nam
the power of True Randomness trump both the Shinny light from the Golden Toilet and the Foul Warp of the Four Stooges
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
And this, fine fellows, is why you wear goddamn helmets.
(Do not go helmetless solely so you can show off your frosted tips.)
- Location
- That light in the sky with a decaying orbit.
jwolfe_beta
Semi Genre-Savvy Overlord
- Location
- Canada
Sweet we not only snagged the Fortress but managed to capture the Champion as well.
Now get the ***** down to the *****ing engine room and relive the 1st Company before they get over run. Just because Vixabis is down doesn't mean the battle is over.
Now get the ***** down to the *****ing engine room and relive the 1st Company before they get over run. Just because Vixabis is down doesn't mean the battle is over.
And we have our Apothecary to make sure that A: Vixabis only wakes up when we want to and B: Blake doesn't die from his wounds etc.
Nice but I think this is more fitting.
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- Location
- Red Blood on Golden Shield
Everything went perfect except the loses of the 1st Company has suffered because we chose the wrong place to attack,
let's hope that the final dead count isn't too high...
let's hope that the final dead count isn't too high...
That went great. Must have been a good few lucky rolls there considering we managed everything
Hammerheadcruiser
Eagle-1 my beloved
- Location
- Anaxes
That victory was pretty rad. I really hope the barge is salvageable, gonna take a good while bringing it up to standards however. Even if it once was as good as our cruiser, I doubt the last 10k years did it any favors.
On the bright side, those who survive will be that much better because of it. Trial by fire if you will.
jwolfe_beta
Semi Genre-Savvy Overlord
- Location
- Canada
Technically it was a good place to attack as it thoroughly attracted most/all of the enemy forces allowing our attack on the Champion to succeed. To misquote Castor: A Marine's life is to die. And our job is to send them to places where they can die.
If I recall we picked that choice because of the 'good chance of Blake getting killed' in the other which would leave us with a T2 Legendary Swordsman in our faces. Also we weren't intending to take this guy alive.
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- Location
- Singapore
And is somehow missing his Progenoids.
jwolfe_beta
Semi Genre-Savvy Overlord
- Location
- Canada
Why would we want Ultramarine/Dark Angel geneseed?
The former would make our marines spontaneously develop redwoods up their asses and the latter would turn them into paranoid nutjobs.
- Location
- Singapore
Where else will you find bastards who can parry ranged attacks? Remember, the only thing the Daemon sword did was let him parry energy attacks. Everything else was all Vixabis.
Plus it's not paranoia if the Imperium does actually think you're a bunch of fucking heretics.
jwolfe_beta
Semi Genre-Savvy Overlord
- Location
- Canada
That was less about geneseed and more the sheer length of time the guy has had to improve and polish his skills.