WH40k - To Stand Against Horror

[Tem]

Welcome to my first attempt at a quest, I will be explaining mechanics in the extra's thread but for now it will be a brief explanation of the starting system. When choices are made others will be locked out in return to ensure a non-overpowered start. Bold writing will be shown to allow you to see what is locked out and make sure you cannot miss it. This is the introduction phase; I will be going easy for the first few chapters to allow breathing room and the chance for you to explore where you guys want this to go. Roughly around ten chapters before I start ramping it up.

Unofficial Fanfiction, I do not own any of the Warhammer franchise. This work is not being used to generate funds and uses the assets of Games Workshop to express my appreciation of the universe via fan work.

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You sit alone. Watching. You see the marching feet of your comrades heading to get food away from the blood-soaked front, some nodding to you as they pass. Your hole big enough to fit the autocannon placed days ago allows some shelter from the rain. Even so the sound of distant artillery blaring through the rain puts you at ease knowing respite has come for the time being.

You can see down the trench lines a Commissar glaring towards the brief flashes of landing explosives, the droplets of water hiding her face. A towering figure of black in the downpour. The highlights of red barely catching your eye depicting a monster awaiting in the dark. You lean your head back against the sandbags to watch her. The faint beat of your heart alongside the rhythm of your breath letting you further relax.

[ ] It is surprisingly soothing watching the Commissar. A terrifying figure that watches over you. Letting you know if the monsters are coming. A figure which has never failed you yet, pushed you too far in occasions, perhaps. You can't forget the haunting images of your friends fleeing from their first battle, leaving you to die in your first moments of bloodshed, only to have her appear to butcher the Ork slobbering over you and gun your friends down in a flash before screaming at you to stand and fight. But you have noted the quiet moments that this figure has taken to talk to a scared recruit in their first battle. A calming drink offered to a veteran who has seen too much. Even a guardian figure in the dark like now.

(The Commissar is seen as a figure of both fear and respect in your regiment. One that many have looked up to like a parent, especially those who had none. One who has the composure to ensure morale is high outside battles and the charisma to inspire in battles. A disturbingly amount of loyalty from the common soldier that occasionally has Generals nervous.)
Reward: Veteran Commissar. Hard to influence but loyal to those in her charge.Maccabian Janissaries Locked out Cunning Commander Locked out.
+20 to Morale. +10 to Combat Rolls if nearby.

[ ] Her predecessor died like all those in her profession, violently. This new Commissar is quiet and dangerous, most likely trying to fill the void of the one before. Dressing down veterans who try not to sneer at this whelp. Terrorising the fresh-faced Guard as they try to hold back tears in the face of this fiend. On the other hand, you have noted some of the more ambitious have taken to following her around and acting as her personal hand. Their words whispering in her ear.

(The Commissar is new, seen with fear by the fresh and as a whelp by the old guard in the regiment. They do not inspire or reassure but, no one will run. If they do well...Commissars have a bloody reputation for a damn good reason.)
Reward: Novice Commissar. Easily influenced and trusting to those around her. Something for you to use? Savlar Chem-Dogs Locked out. Foolish Commander Locked out.
-10 to Morale.

[ ] This Commissar is one who has survived. Aids to the Colonel in your regiment whisper of a hard-fought battle on a planet of fire. Her regiment descending like a hammer onto the planet and breaking the enemy open like an egg only to have a trap be laid upon them. She survived along with a squad who was taken elsewhere. A Commissar who survived is good...but at the cost of her regiment? Is it the mark of a hero or the mark of a coward?

(The Commissar is an outsider. Acknowledged for their position and experience but her past is also a mark. Good or bad is the question but for now, they are a not a boulder to strengthen your Regiment and neither a pebble to your Regiment. Merely a rock, steady against the tide)
Reward: Competent Commissar. Regiment does not know how to handle her. Chance to ???
+5 to Morale.

[ ] Write in (give reasons for buffs / debuffs. If they are better than competent some regiments/leadership will be locked out.)

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This plan is seemingly stupid to yourself. 'A plan to end this campaign decisively.' is what came down the chain of command. To use a Regiment as bait is nothing new but having the command company visible to entice the enemy is ridiculously wasteful especially as other Regiments will be attacking key areas around the front line, essentially making you alone for an unspecified amount of time. A single idea of this plan comes to your mind, the idea being...

[ ] Cunning. A word to describe the actions of your Colonel to the letter. They are effective and like to ensure maximum damage on the enemy from what you've experienced. Multiple times you and yours have followed orders that seem nonsensical only to have things come together and have the enemy be wiped out.

Reward: Tactical Commander. (Harder to stand out as your actions will be attributed to them. Less rewards from higher ups. Will utilise more dangerous plans) Veteran Commissar Locked out. Maccabian Janissaries Locked out
+10 to Combat Rolls if their plan is followed but require ALOT of trust.

[ ] Foolish. Your Regiment has engaged in battle multiple times and so far? You are not impressed. Either your leader is an idiot or has never read about the Regiment they are in charge of. Often you are utilised in the wrong way playing to your weaknesses. Once even being ineffectual as you were placed in a frakking BOG on the opposite side of the battle that wiped out an ally Regiment at one point...Yeah, you do not have high hopes for this plan.

Reward: Novice Commander. Often placed in conditions that play to your Regiments weaknesses. Survival is something that makes you stand out easily. (Easier to get rewards/notice from higher ups. Higher risk of death via incompetence. Can be influenced) Novice Commissar locked out.
-5 to Combat Rolls.

[ ] Prideful. Someone who has worked to your Regiments strengths, allowing them to shine in this campaign as other falter. You and yours have been the bulwark for the most part, breaking the enemy to get the pressure of other Regiments or capturing key areas. But this is ambitious even for them. You know rumours of them aiming for the next promotion over the lives of their soldiers but it is not bad, after all...Glory is for the Angels of Death and commanders, you exist to hold the line.

Reward: Competent Commander. They may know your strengths and weaknesses but they will use you as a stepping stone in their career. (Your Strengths will be used. Your achievements are theirs. Harder to stand out. You will be sacrificed for their career if it comes down to it.) Vitrian Dragoons Locked out.
+10 Combat Rolls if their plan is followed.

[ ] Write in (give reasons for buffs / debuffs. If they are better than competent some regiments/heroes will be locked out.)
You turn to gaze at your comrade in the hole with you. His weary old face barely visible between the burly white moustache, monstrous eyebrows and the bushy beard. His face is curled in a smirk as his croaky voice comes out "Careful there, looking at the Commissar like that is likely to lead to some disappointment for your romance choices." Comes his rough voice, the faint tints of nobility never truly leaving it. Your face scrunching up to look at him.

"Romance, Adrehan? Who still says that these days?" Your deadpan reply makes him cough as he puffs up in mock outrage.

"Those who still know that a Lady must not be mocked! A gentlemen must be gallant at all times which must be reflected in their words!" Both of you chuckle at these words as your friend reaches for his flask to wash down the flavour of his smoking habits. Offering it to you, you shake your head to observe your equipment. You see the mark of the...

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[ ] Savlar Chem-Dogs. Coming from a Penal World, especially born from one has marked you, you know your morals are looser than 'upstanding Imperial citizens' would like but it has saved your life. You know how to work with the ruthless, to talk with the desperate and to barter with the frugal. Among battle your Regiment is much preferred for fighting in hive cities. The noxious fumes reminding you of the choking hazards of home.

Savlar Chem-Dogs.

(No tactics are too dirty, no loot is tied down and no line is hard to cross. Your Regiment is ruthless, hard-bitten and raring to kill. Nitro-chem inhalers are available to use which boost morale at the cost of health later on. Loot is easier to gain but you have no true equipment. Everything you have is scavenged or bargained for which means you are not limited to anything but what you get. Also...Penal World means your leaders view you as more expendable...Not that you mind, more loot for you. Maybe your dead friends have something?)

Fast Talker+10 Persuasion Rolls | Bargain Bin + 20 Looting Rolls

[ ] Athonian Tunnel Rats. You have fought in the dark tunnels of home, sometimes the openness of the air makes you nauseous but gripping your trusty mace allows you to power through. You know the secrets of fighting close up, the terror of being caught in an ambush and the ability to turn it around with a few swings of your weapons. You have even faced some of the Genestealers that take over your fellow humans and come out on top in close quarters.

Athonian Tunnel Rats.

(Close combat is a speciality that your history ensures you excel in. All of your Regiment use hand to hand weapons. Your armour makes it horrifying for enemies to come close as spikes on pauldrons or specially made gauntlets to brutalise enemies are things you can use. You can choose to specialise into certain weapons later on in the Regiment, the vaunted Meltagun or the flamer.)

Melee is a rite +15 to Close Combat Rolls | Tunnel Rats+5 to Urban Combat rolls

[ ] Vitrian Dragoons. War is something you are proud to have taken part in. Your armour, is different from many other regiments, you can boast to survive rounds that no ordinary guardsman can take such as a Xenos Witch sniper rifle. You also have the ability to turn that armour into night camouflage. As such you have partaken in stealth training. You glance to your weapons once more, the sword and lasgun gleaming as it was freshly cleaned. Your Byhata close to your heart you smile at the rain.

Vitrian Dragoons.

(Martial Honour is bred and trained into your Regiment. Sometimes unrelenting and rigid, your Regiment is born of the belief of the first hit should be the last. Your Las weapons are on the highest settings to inflict maximum damage at the expense of not having as much ammunition. Your culture follows a strict honour code that I will explain if you go down this route but the basics of this are "Make your first blow sure enough to kill and there will be no need for a second." And "Life is a means towards death, and our own death may be welcomed as much as that of our foe.")

Hit Hard +10 to ranged Combat Rolls. Mica Armour –10 to Enemy Combat Rolls. Bead Gleam +10 to Stealth or +20 at night Stealth Rolls

[ ] Maccabian Janissaries. You have been blessed by the Holy God Emperor in this life. The harsh clunk of your Flak armour reflecting this as the heavy lasgun rests on your lap. Your head briefly dipping as you pray over the weapon, hands close to the Aquila. To be chosen to fight for him is a blessing, to eliminate his hated foe? Even better. You can hear in the distance, closer to the artillery, the words of the faith being spoken in a sermon as the large guns do his work.

Maccabian Janissaries.

(You are a Zealot. You pray more than what other people would find necessary but in turn you are rewarded by the Ecclesiarch in both faith and armour. Your Regiment is the backbone to any fight, withstanding any storm of fire with your unbreakable faith in Him. Where others faulter and flinch, you scream your defiance to the world as you stand, a Bulwark.)

Buffs: Zealot + 20 to Morale | Flak Armour –20 to Enemy Combat Rolls. ??? To ??? Rolls.
Debuffs: Veteran Commissar Locked Out. Cunning Commander Locked out.
[ ] Write in (give reasons for buffs / debuffs. If they are better than competent some leadership/heroes will be locked out.)

[ ] Armageddon Steel Legion. The pounding of artillery is home to you. The constant pulses soothing to your body as you imagine the smell of oil in the air with the tanks you know are close by. You are a Veteran, like the others in your Regiment. Sent to this world for the sole purpose of hunting a single foe who has harmed your home-planet and escaped like the cur it is. The rain barely bothers you in your heavy trench coat, the las gun near you. Ready. Waiting. {Write in choice - Suggested Legion by Eternal Lord}

Armageddon Steel Legion

(A Veteran from multiple campaigns in Armageddon, your Regiment has come to eliminate a foe before it rebuilds to strike at your vaunted home once more. You are a Mechanized Infantry Regiment, utilizing your infantry in tandem with the heavy firepower of tanks.)

Buffs: Look ma, all hands +10 to rolls involving vehicles (from the humble speeder to the rumbling baneblade).
Guard of Hell +10 to defensive Combat Rolls
Creed's Motto = Regiment gains 6 tanks of unknown quality. Roll a 1d10 to see what types you have been given.
Debuffs:
Killa Wacka +10 to enemy combat rolls +20 to all enemy stealth rolls when near this hero. You are facing a target that has hurt Armageddon. The main reason you are here is to kill that damn Ork. Killa Wacka is here...and it knows you are too. The enemy knows you and your tactics, be wary.
Enemy hero on the field.
Veteran Commisar Locked out

---

(No Death Korps of Kreig as they would be hard and require a large amount of suspension of disbelief if I would write this quest out. Frankly I don't think I have the skill to do them. They are my favourite sadly.)

 

[Tem]

Rolls
Rolls will be 1d100 for the most part. Buffs and debuffs will be applied based on a multitude of factors.
People may try to gain personal buffs that they can spend on certain rolls. This can be done before the die is accepted either via side stories(omakes) or discussions that raise interesting points.

So, if someone rolls a 1d100 and gets a 24, someone with an omake point of 10 can spend it to buff to 34. Just make sure to ping me and inform me of your usage before I finish writing/Close votes.

Difficulty Class (DC) is the target you will be aiming for. Once the DC is passed the action will be completed. The more difficult, the higher the DC. For example, Shooting an Ork Shoota. DC 20. Rolled 1d100 = 40. Action succeded. But Shooting an Ork Boss DC 80 Rolled = 1d100 = 40 Action Failure.

Persuasion Rolls
Used in conversations to get someone to your view or commit and action via reasoning or arguing. Can be used in lies.

Morale Rolls
When faced with this universe of terror it may harm the normal man to gaze into it. Morale keeps them there. This only happens when something tries to break their morale. Such cases are, Leaders dying, Heroes dying or an objective being lost. Or ????

Perception Rolls
Examining a situation to gain a benefit or to see what is happening. This can be from, counting the amount of enemies to seeing a buff on an enemy.
Loot rolls fall under perception. Loot Rolls are deliberate action to take stuff from the battle. Be it the enemies or your fellow allies. Just be careful, some things looted can get you killed.

Stealth Rolls
Being sneaky can sometimes lead to your survival. Some people are better at it and so are some enemies. Never seen a purple ork have ya?

Combat Rolls

Buffs and debuffs will be added depending on the foes you face, the equipment you have and the personal traits you accumulate. Notable personal kills will add to your own buffs/debuffs or a Heroes.

Specialised Combat like Close Combat falls under Combat Rolls. This is just something that applies when those special conditions are met.

Corruption Rolls
{REDACTED INFORMATION, PRESENT INQUISITORIAL ROSSETE.}
Be wary of these.

Debrief Phase
After a campaign is completed, you may influence the area your Regiment goes to next. A list will be provided allowing you to choose.

Warp Travel
(Awaiting next Chapter)

 

[Tem]

Character Sheet: Private Lothar
Your personal character from The Astra Militarum.

Traits:
A distinguishing quality that effects your personal character.
Haunted. What your actions have led to is something you carry. Every blink you hear the whispers of your allies. Asking for why. Every step weighed by the gazes of the dead. Those who died because of your plan. (You have the eyes of a veteran, any intimidation actions gain a +5 to your roll.)

Regiment: Vitrian Dragoons

Vitrian Dragoons.

War is something you are proud to have taken part in. Your armour, is different from many other regiments, you can boast to survive rounds that no ordinary guardsman can take such as a Xenos Witch sniper rifle. You also have the ability to turn that armour into night camouflage. As such you have partaken in stealth training. You glance to your weapons once more, the sword and lasgun gleaming as it was freshly cleaned. Your Byhata close to your heart you smile at the rain.
(Hit Hard +10 to ranged Combat Rolls. Mica Armour –10 to Enemy Combat Rolls. Bead Gleam +10 to Stealth or +20 at night Stealth Rolls)

Regiments decide the beginning of your character, what equipment they may use and the personal beliefs they may have. Most starting Regiments have lasguns and semblances of Flak armour.

Regiment Equipment:
Lasguns (Highest setting): More damage but less ammunition. Can be fitted with spike bayonet.
Mica Bead Armour : Armour that resembles primitive metallic mail but is more sophisticated than it appears. Crystalline armour covering insulating thermal fabric. The armour can have its reflectivity to blend in to its surroundings, more effective at night. Full-face helmet with visor. Obsidian (Black) in appearance.
Sword: Often mistaken for a bayonet, this weapon has the ability to attach to a lasgun but is large enough to be used without.
Byhata: Also known as the Vitrian Art of War, is a text detailing the combat doctrine, philosophies and principles of warfare followed by the Vitrian Dragoons. Gene-locked to each soldier, it is located above the owners heart in their flak tunic.

Corruption
Current status 5/100


Persons of Importance:
Heros of the Regiment, boosting rolls via their actions or just being there.

Adrehan Raabeherz
Traits:
Noblesse Oblige pour le sang- Your left golden hand indicates your status as a noble. You are mostly dominant in conversations. You have been for a long time and that is reflected in how you talk to someone. +5 to all conversations of someone who is of lower status or lesser will. -10 to all conversations to someone that is of higher status unless you have accepted them.
Veteran: Your right golden hand indicates you are a veteran. You have had many conflicts. You have survived and picked up alot of tricks. +5 to personal Combat Rolls.
Auto Cannon: A personal choice that allows heavy damage to many foes. A worthy addition to the Dragoons.

Adrehan Raabeherz

Botches
Traits:
Orphan: No family to hold them back or guide them.
Want for Wealth: You have gone without food or wealth. You try to get as much as you can out of everything, this can get you into trouble. +5 to bartering rolls. +5 to looting rolls
Honour Scar: Challenged to a duel, you have accepted and lost, it may not be the greatest outcome but no one will look down of you. Reputation

Botches

Commissar
Traits:
Commissar: The back bone to any Regiment, you ensure they hold the line. Or die trying. +5 to morale to others.
Survivor: You have survived a conflict many others did not. It does not make you feel any better. Reputation
Ear of the Colonel: You can make suggestions to the Colonel of the Regiment without any downsides. Power.

Commissar

Leaders of the Regiment, using tactics to help boost or get you into more trouble.

Colonel Leuchtend.
Traits:
Cunning: Your plans may be contrived, but more often than not they work to be the most efficient...When your subordinates follow them. +5 to friendly combat rolls.
Veteran: You have had many conflicts. You have survived and picked up alot of tricks. +5 to personal Combat Rolls.
Intelligence is half the battle: you have a number of aides that help get information to you quickly allowing for qfast adjustments to your plans.

Colonel Leuchtend

 

[Tem]

12 People have voted for :
[X] Cunning
This has won out by a fair margin. Foolish Commander only having 2 votes.
11 have voted for :
[X] This Commissar is one who has survived
Similar to the previous one, the only other rival is Veteran Commissar with 2 votes.
This means that Maccabian Janissaries are locked out.
The Regiment is actually tied at the moment. Took so long due to the fact I was waiting for a winner, I'll be giving a 2 hours voting period for anyone who wants to make a last minute change. If it remains tied I will be using a dice roll to determine the regiment between the two.
[X] Vitrian Dragoons.
[X] Savlar Chem-Dogs.
Edit: Vote Closed, Vitrian Dragoons have won. Next segment will be up tommorow

 

[Tem]

Spoiler: Choices

[X] This Commissar is one who has survived. Aids to the Colonel in your regiment whisper of a hard-fought battle on a planet of fire. Her regiment descending like a hammer onto the planet and breaking the enemy open like an egg only to have a trap be laid upon them. She survived along with a squad who was taken elsewhere. A Commissar who survived is good...but at the cost of her regiment? Is it the mark of a hero or the mark of a coward?
[X] Cunning. A word to describe the actions of your Colonel to the letter. They are effective and like to ensure maximum damage on the enemy from what you've experienced. Multiple times you and yours have followed orders that seem nonsensical only to have things come together and have the enemy be wiped out.
[X] Vitrian Dragoons.

Vitrian Dragoons.

You see the mark of the... Vitrian Dragoons. War is something you are proud to have taken part in. Your armours scale-like appearance letting you fade against the sandbags behind you. The reassuring weight reminding you of tales that the training elders would tell in the silent camps. The rain plinking off the ground reminding you of the nights spent trying to hide from your trainers as the reminiscent seniors told stories. You glance to your weapons once more, the sword and lasgun gleaming as it was freshly cleaned. Your Byhata close to your heart you smile at the rain.

You can see the Commissar in the distance, no one approaching her as you remember the whispers of her survival spreading through the ranks. Adrehan continuing to watch you for a moment, his croaky voice interrupting your vigil.

Adrehan

"Commissars are there to ensure duty is done to the Emperor young'un. Their power makes it a lonely lot, but that power is there for a reason. Do not get involved." With those spoken words he turns to look out on the battlefield. His own armour a similar shade of black but with the glint of a golden left hand to indicate his status as a Blood Noble. Whilst not as important politically in your home world as other Regiments assume, you know Blood Nobility is not to be trifled. Still, you cannot help but glance at the lone figure.

As you turn back to front, your eyes catch the slight movements at the edge of the swamp in front of you. The three hundred metres in front of you feeling small as you catch sight of the occasional foe. "We have guests." You say as you pick up your lasgun to look further into the dark. The night vision on your weapon activating with a click as you look through. You see...

(The Foe Comes: 63)
(The Filth You Face: 1d6: 2 = The Green Tide.)
(Stealth Roll: 21 Interrupt: Cunning Colonel)

Orks

Roughly just over half your current squad's size. Considering these are Greenskins, probably a match. You see Adrehan nod, turning to the trench behind you and pulling on a hollow bell that swings. A rope attaching to another continuing down the trench. The quiet murmur of life snuffling out along the sides. You breath as you grip your las gun. Waiting, the soft squelches of mud indicating those who were resting coming back to the front. Admittedly the bells were a nice touch by the Colonel. Something they had happily informed it was taken from the Drookian Fenguard. A specialised stealth Regiment. Usually, shouting along the line would have been done but this, it allows the first attack to be yours. Everyone was most definitely happy about this.

Adrehan aims his autocannon out of the corner of your eye, you can hear his aid quietly coming back to him. Ready to give ammunition or cover their lord. The quietness building in you as you sight an ugly tusk-filled face moaning at another. You feel another presence take its place to your right. A steady voice breathing out the command you all wished to hear.

"Fire."

(Combat | Hit First: 69 + Hit Hard (15) + Drookian Tactics (10): 94)

The first volley goes out and Emperor bless does it fill your heart with pride. Every hit seems to land as eyes burst under the red lances of your guns. The spray of autocannons landing on the stronger foes that barely get the chance to look confused. After the first volley, only a couple of Orks stand. None of the leaders, just some of the cowardly small ones along with two of the Shootas. As you go to finish the foe, you feel a hand on your shoulder. Another command going out across the trench lines.

"Hold." The hand lets go as it steps out of your hole. Keeping your eyes sighted on the Orks you glance at Adrehan. His shrug telling you that he has no idea either. Coming into view of your foxhole, the Commissar looking at the Xenos with disgust. Her voice raising to blare past the light rain. "You are barely worth the ammo wasted to be here Scum! Not even worth the air you stand in! Run you festering beasts! We hold these lands from any dangerous foe. You are not one of them!"

(Persuasion | Taunting: 65 + Wanna Fight (10): 75)

The Greenskins seem to grow angry their voices bellowing out as one takes a step forward. A crude knife in their grasp as they point it at the Commissar. A single shot from her bolt pistol makes the others scatter into the swamp. She nods at seemingly nothing. Returning to the trenches as you catch a glimpse of her.

Commissar

Her face is set into a deep frown. The scars spreading out from her eye only highlighting the glare. A slip of platinum blonde hair escaping out the right side of her cap. She passes the edges of the foxhole. She pauses to look out at her usual spot, seeing the rain has grown heavier. You cough knocking the ammunition crate near you as you wait. She glances at you, Adrehan and the aid before sitting down in silence.
Your friend smiles at the awkwardness that permeates, his eyes looking at you to indicate annoyance. It drags on making you look over your weapon for a moment, cleaning it when the aid speaks.

Botches

His face is laden with a prominent scar across his nose, indicating a lost duel on your planet. His barely grown beard and hair complimenting his brown eyes that look a bit lost for the moment. A glint of gold on his ear lets you know that he still values wealth a bit as it is hidden in the confines of his coif. His need to not wear his helmet lost on you. His aged face betrayed by the young voice that comes out his mouth.

"Why didn't we stick it to the Greenies? Woulda been a perfect opportunity, err, milord." He asks of your companion. His voice silky but snide that barely carries across your foxhole. Faint hints of his previous life's accents still in his voice. Adrehan turns to him.

"I presume it is a plan of the Colonel my boy. Given his idea with the bell line? I'm inclined to see what happens." The boy turns to you, his eyes alight with curiosity but ignoring the looming Commissar in the corner.

"What do you think? Seems a bit on the foolish side, eh?" You tilt your head considering the question. As you go to reply, the Commissar speaks for you.

"Colonel Leuchtend wants to get as many Orks into this area. Killing all the damn Xenos does nothing but getting rid of the immediate issue. Getting a large enough portion of them into this trap? We may leave this planet sooner than expected." Her voice is steady and gruff as her eye stares into his soul. His eyes widening in reply, mouth opening to say something but stuck for anything.

"Be mindful of Botches, it is his first battle so the intricacies are a bit much for him at the moment." You speak. The Commissar looks at you with both eyes, allowing you to see the faint wispy wall over her right eye. Her eyes examining your frame as you continue to clean your lasgun. She looks to your noble companion, awaiting something as they stare at each other

(Perception | Awkward Conversations: 64 - Noblesse Oblige pour le sang (10) = 54)

You realise that your noble companion is making a power play to get the Commissars name first before speaking his name. You swiftly realise, that is a bad plan."Adrehan is the Gentleman, my lady." She nods at that before looking at you expectantly.

You are a....

[ ] Male – Gender does not make much difference in your Regiment. Do your duty and you are worthy.
[ ] Female – Gender does not make much difference in your Regiment. Do your duty and you are worthy.
Background (Pick 1)

[ ]Blood Noble: In other worlds Nobility comes with expectations of wealth, laziness and power. Your world? You are a Blood Noble. Either you or your family has earned noble claim through butchering foes or protecting the home world. You are afforded the best training you can get in order to do your duty along. In return the harder missions are tasked to the Blood Nobles. You lost out on comradery with the other soldiers at this expense however.

(Blood Noble - You may be taken to complete harder missions by unknown individuals. Your duty is to the Imperium. Potential rewards.+5 to close combat rolls)

[ ] Dragoon of Conflict: You are an Orphan. You have no blood relative claims, no family history to regale. That also means everything you have done is yours alone. You fought your way out of the orphanage into the training yards at a young age. Learning what you can from everyone. You embody your heritage. Hit hard and hit first.

(Dragoon of Conflict - You are alone, anything you have or prestige you gain is yours alone. You have enlisted at a young age and it shows. +5 to personal Hit Hard. Hit Hard upgrades +15 personal ranged combat rolls. Regiment does not get your upgrade)

[ ] The Honorable Turncoat: When you were young, you realised something was wrong with your family. You investigated, examining what had occurred and realised something horrific. They were in line with the enemy. You personally contacted the authorities until it went to the highest authority on your planet...And then the Inquisition got involved. Your family no longer live to your knowledge. Your noble claim is long gone.

(The Honorable Turncoat- Betrayal to the Imperium is punishable by death. Your family knew this and did so anyway. You are the only one turn away. Reputation + Inquisitorial Interest)

[ ] The Humble Soldier: You are not different from many families. You are proud of your history and upbringing. Your family are older soldiers that have retired after many long years of service. The only difference is they currently run the training facilities for your homeworlds Regiments. You have known many soldiers and know the price of war. You honour your family with service.

(The Humble Soldier – You have a stable family, a good upbringing and the sense of honour drilled into you. May you serve the Emperor faithfully. +10 to ????? ????? Rolls.)

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So here is the new chapter, hope you guys are enjoying the way this is being done. If you are interested in why the rolls are being done on so many small things, its an introduction to the rolls to help you guys get settled in. Character sheets will be written up for Adrehan, The Commissar (She is named) and Botches (A reference that most will catch I think.) Equipment will be added to character sheets as well.
Edit: Character sheets have been updated. Next update will happen during the week. Most likely Wednesday. Also informed by a friend that +20 this early is pretty op. Little nerf for the regiment and yourselves. Not to much but enough so I don't have throw buffed enemies every engagement.

 

[Tem]

Spoiler: Choices

[X] Male
[X] Dragoon of Conflict

You are a man, a bit younger than what your fellows are but still a man. Your face is not the perky sophisticated looks of a noble. You have scars on your face, a tale of hardship seared into bones. Scrolls of fighting told across your body with some intermingling burns. An Orphan does not have much respect or prestige but you earned it through the only way you were taught how. You beat those that would stop you in the orphanage, you beat those that would hinder you joining the training grounds and you beat those that disparaged you when you were in the Astra Militarum. You may not have started with respect others had but you showed them that you belonged. That you had the strength to do so.

(Hit Hard upgrades +15 personal ranged combat rolls. Regiment does not get your upgrade)

Of course, the Commissar does not know this. Your visor down across your face as you stare at the Commissar. She goes to say something when you hear a shout further down the trench. All four of you peak out of the foxhole to look down, seeing a man running down it shouting. As he gets closer you can see the stripe of gold going down from his visor to his collar indicating a squad leader. His voice comes into range.

"ORKS! ORKS ON THE WEST! POSITIONS MEN! GET TO YOUR POSITIONS!"

He continues this shouting even as your group returns to aiming out the foxhole. The autocannon clicking as Adrehan sights it once more, Botches seems to be making a prayer to the God-Emperor and the Commissar glares out at the swamp. You aim your weapon. No use doing anything but readying. Enough fights have taught you that.

Swamp

(Combat | Fight damn you!: 29 + Hit Hard (10):39)

The rain seems to peter out. The heavy drops slowing as silence reigns. You can hear along the trench line further left from you, engaging in fighting. Lasguns firing alongside screams of your fellow guardsmen. The noise makes Botches nervous; you even see Adrehan whisper something to the Aquilla as he listens to the noise. You continue to watch the swamp in front of you. The fighting continues without you. Then...Lights in the distance. You see them as they run through the swampy terrain, frothing for the fight. The Commissar stands once more shouting out along the quiet trenches.

"Take their pathetic lives from them! Let their last vision be righteous vengeance of the Emperor!" She raises her bolt gun, firing it at the horde. A wave of red light with sparks of yellow burst into the horde.

(Combat | Righteous Vengeance: 81 + Hit Hard (10):91)

Each hit lands on a foe, sometimes multiple coming out to hit the same target as these scum like to stay up after brutal wounds. You can see the horde disintegrate into groups that try to return fire. The occasional bullet skimming of the sandbag makes you hum as you see the aim of the Orks is as bad as their tactics. Another sound rings out once more across the swamp.

You can see a vibrant glow of red to your left. You turn.

Killa Kan

The Killa Kan stomps down the trench line, its red hull shining with multiple holes as it sprays liquid fire into your squad leader in front of it. His armour doing nothing to stop the giggling monstrosity. "Walker! Adrehan!" You shout as you turn your gun to fire at it. Multiple lasguns behind you and some wretched souls do so from in front of the Kan. It reaches down with a hand to grip a Guardswoman. The giggling turning to laughter as you see the flamer starting to spark.

"Help me move this damn thing!" You move to your companion. You see your motley group moving the autocannon away from the foxhole to get a better sightline. Holstering your weapon you help, hearing the scream as the Killa Kans flamer fires. With a slam, the autocannon has the perfect sight now. Adrehan looms over the trigger.

(Combat | Open this Kan:14 + Hit Hard(10)+Vet(5):29)

The shots seem to bounce off the walker. The first hit slicing across its shoulder. The second slides across its flamer to hit the burning Guardswoman, her body exploding into paste. A saddened slump is the only reaction from the Kan. It drops the corpse, raising a leg to stomp it.

"'W'ch zogging GIT! Waz THAT!" The pipes on its back sparking up as it speeds towards you. "COM' 'ERE SO I CAN SQUISH YA!" You jerk your rifle up alongside the Commissar who only grunts in annoyance at the Ork.

(Combat | Bricky's Guns: 21 + Hit Hard (10): 31)
(Personal Combat | A well placed shot: 66 + Hit Hard (15): 81)

The opening volley seems to do nothing but annoy the walker. The unfortunate souls between you and the beast have a second to aim before the metal feet brutalise them. The breath in... firing with a single shot into the slit where the head would be. The Kan still moves towards you at full speed. You know you hit that shot, did the bastard survive?

The Kan trips on one of the foxholes, slamming against the wall. It stills. The horrible mechanical belching slowing with its motions. A Dragoon goes to check. A tense silence before a thumbs up ensures relieve.

"Impressive aim." The gruff Commissar says, her eyes glaring at the machine. You nod once before you hear the clambering of more Orks from where the Kan came from. Exchanging a glance with the Commissar, she turns screaming orders to soldiers. You can see the flickering fires from the Kans rampage in the walls of the trenches.

"Do we know what the plan even is!?" Botches questions. His voice a bit shrill from panic. You shrug as you assess the area.

"The sides can fall, but the centre must be held. It's all I was told." Comes your stiff reply. Your fellow soldiers get into position, some jumping to fill your foxhole and others moving debris into makeshift cover. The aid looks over the area.

"I could set that Ork thing up to explode. Could get a few of them if we time it right!" He delights. You turn to him. He takes the look as curiosity. "I made a few things explode before I met my lord." Adrehan frowns in reply to this.

"It will require us to give more ground. If it fails, we will have to fight hard and with not much room for many guns."

---

[ ] Holding. The plan requires you to hold the centre, you will not give ground. Your remaining squad consists of 40 men and women, this plan allows them to be spread out using whatever they can as cover and have more guns down range.

[ ] Trapping. Botches will set up the Killa Kan to explode, its radius means you give up half the trench to the Orks to enact this plan. Your remaining squad consists of 40 men and women, this plan forces more people to the same cover. Less guns down range. Higher risk and potentially high reward. Failure means a more difficult position.

---

Wow, your left regiment got unlucky. 1 below the dc to defeat the orks. Also ADREHAN what the hell! You missed! LESS THAN A HUNDRED METRES. He's lucky you had good rolls.

 

[Tem]

Sorry about the wait, new update on windows corrupted my Drivers and I had to reinstall all my gear after trying to figure out what the issues were. Along with that, some of my original documents for the quest got deleted. Had to recreate them.

---

Spoiler: Choices

[X] Trapping. Botches will set up the Killa Kan to explode, its radius means you give up half the trench to the Orks to enact this plan. Your remaining squad consists of 40 men and women, this plan forces more people to the same cover. Less guns down range. Higher risk and potentially high reward. Failure means a more difficult position.

Whilst you are not the leader in any capacity, you can glance and see the others are not making the decision. Andrehan hums in thought but you know from personal experience he prefers fight to thinking. Botches is relatively new to the Regiment which means he won't have the soldier's trust. Alongside that...casting a careful eye on Botches you note his demeaner of slinking instead of standing. Not exactly leader material. The Commissar is staring at the corpse of your old squad leader. Their melted armour moulded to the screaming jaw open to the world. It looks like it's up to you.

You stand raising your voice over the controlled frenzy of Dragoons moving into cover. "Demolitions! Set charges on that Ork scrap! Everyone else, back away from it!" Your voice carries through the trench. Your booming tone that catches attention learned from watching the proud Broodcarers of the Orphanage maintaining order.

(Persuasion | I have a Plan!: 43)

They glance back at you, thinking for a second. The demolition specialist is already moving even as some of the guard is clearly thinking about ignoring your orders. They are quickly made to conform by their more convinced friends. Making their way back to you, the already miniscule cover is swarmed. Five guardsmen drop into your own hole returning your nod. As the demolitions is finally placed you can hear the Orks yelling happily from their captured lines. The person to your left holds their hand to the Aquilla on their gun praying. Muttering away to the God-Emperor and trying to ignore the xenos slobbering in the trenches.

"Fix bayonets! We hold them here! Demo, once they get past that walker blow them to hell!" You yell once more. Your own hand fitting your 'bayonet' to the rifle. The clinking of metal letting you know that order is followed. The Commissar rests on the sandbag to your right, Andrehan and Botches are further to your left prepared to lay hell. Aiming your own weapon down range, you see them once more.
They pile out of the corner of the trench, still slick with the blood of comrades. An Ork with a dazzlingly bright gold jaw laughs.

"Oi, da humiez are tryna-" is the most it gets to. The rest of the sentence cut off with its head.

(Combat | Go no further: 4+15: 24)

The first moments are crucial in a battle. This is drilled into you from the moment you first spawned on Vitrian to crawling into the Guard. Every second counts and your forces.... fail. The Ork who should be dead, missing half its head seems to focus back up. Its remaining eye glaring forward as it opens its jaw to screech

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH"
With that cry, they charge. Your comrades flinching at the cry as their guns fire overhead of the Orks making their way across the trench. Rounds of savagery make their way into the defenders, spattering their friends with blood. Some still live, screaming as limbs are torn asunder from the brutal guns. The Orks bloodlust growing as they stomp corpses into the ground and clamber over the Killa Kan.

"Blow it! Blow it! Blow it now!" The Commissar bellows out. Her voice in symphony with her bolt pistol.

(Combat | A well placed Explosive: 1)

The blob of green swells for a second. Then you are looking at the sky. A cough comes, unwelcomed. Turning onto your front, you place a foot on the ground to look.

A cloud of smoke obscures your vision. Smatterings of dirt land around you. Where there was once a trench lies a large...looming hole. The Orks are most likely splatters in the wind. Along with that...

You look down to see a leg. The well-worn boots firmly attached to the cared for trousers. The blood leaks out of the other end. A hand on the shoulder spooks you. You look into the eyes of the Commissar. Behind her you see Adrehan on his back, trying to get his breath back. Botches is trying to help even as he does the same. The five others whose name escapes you are in similar states of shock. You speak.

"That wasn't...Charges aren't...The explosive can't have..." Your voice comes out in a horrified stutter. 40 men and women of the Imperium. People who followed your plan...Gone. The Commissar leans closer to you, the grim look dominating your mind as her eyes glare with intent.

"They gave their lives for the Emperor soldier. Remember that and respect that."

For a long moment you try to hold that thought. That singular idea...The whistling wind shuddering in the vast silence. A crunch.

A green arm swipes the both of you, grunts escaping as you smack against the Auto Cannon. "You Fink Dat will 'urt me? I'z Snudruz Glintbita! You'z got to try betta than tha'!"

Snudruz Glintbita (With Gold Jaw)

With a clanking step, you see the Ork with the golden jaw. Barely wearing armour apart from a single pauldron, the mechanical arm more than makes up for it as the bulky mess seems to have a makeshift shield welded onto the clawed arm. Its metal leg is much less high tech, quite literally a boot and some rebar forced into the shape of a leg. Finally, is its most distinct feature, a golden jaw welded or perhaps replacing the mouth as it leers at you.

(Personal Combat | Nice glinty target: 71+15: 86 VS I'z Unstoppable: 54)

The Lasgun fires at the eye-catching face. The power of the shot this close being more than enough to sear the jaw armour. The Ork yelps. It flinches back, kicking at you with its metal leg. You roll along the ground. Even so, you hear the crunches of the Ork as it tries to follow.
"M's Ja'! Y's Gi's!"

You manage to scramble far enough away to get decent footing allowing you to turn to observe your handiwork.... Huh. It seems the Ork was foolish enough to make his jaw out of gold. Combined with your shot. It seems to have melted. Raising your gun at the Ork you fire once more.

(Personal Combat | Hit it again: 81+ 15: 96 VS Y's Gi's: 82 Interrupt: Did you forget?)

The foe goes to raise its claw, only to be struck by a multiple lasguns. You flinch at the cracking sound of the cannon roaring alongside them. The Ork barely gets the chance to roar in outrage before its covered in fire. It smashes the ground causing more smoke to spike up. A squaky slam clicking back across the trenches as your comrades fire into the smoke. Barely able to see the gold-jawed Ork around the corner.

"...Xenos idiot." Adrehan declares. Resting on the smoking barrel of the Auto Cannon looking for the Ork. The Commissar standing next to it, not even winded from the Ork. Botches is making his way over to you. His pace is steady among the scraps of metal or flesh. He grips you and drags you back to the survivors of your squad. The other five living guards have their still cooling guns aiming towards the open terrain. Ready to do their duty.
Quietly you sit. Your watch focused on the destructive opening the bomb caused. Guarding it...Watching over the massacre of your fellow allies you feel...

(Due to bad rolls, you have witnessed an act that has caused you stress. This has resulted in a negative trait that can influence your character unless it is addressed. In order to get rid of traits like these you may do a number of things like faith, i.e priest confessions / vices like alcohol or other such actions / talking to someone/ etc. Some work quicker but may turn into issues on their own. Ya know, using drugs may be good mentally for a short peroid then suddenly getting hooked and wanting more... you get the picture.)

[ ] Haunted. What your actions have led to is something you carry. Every blink you hear the whispers of your allies. Asking for why. Every step weighed by the gazes of the dead. Those who died because of your plan.

[ ] Regret. This action was something that could have been avoided. Maybe if you knew more? Maybe if you had learned more about explosives? Maybe even questioned the demolitons specialist? You will never repeat this.

[ ] Fury. The damn Orks should have never come into the galaxy! They should have never even crawled out of whatever forsaken rock that spawned them! The blasted scum should have never forced this outcome. Should never have gotten your comrades killed.

[ ] Sorrow. You did not have a family. These people, the comrades...They were your family...And they lie dead. These souls of life laughing with you in training, comforting each other in the hard times... Gone...

A figure running towards your trench catches your attention. The Lasgun comes up a second later to focus on the figure running towards your position. A couple of seconds as the dust from the explosion is still settling you see the figure turn into an aide of the Colonel. Their more standard looking flak armour marking out their difference as you look upon them. You wave as they get closer to deliver the news...

---

A figure stands over a map. Rudimentary drawings of a plan are bare to see on the paper as around it, an efficient communication of information is passed between members of this room. The grey tent lit by the flashes of combat over the horizon. Off to the side artillery guns targeting specific spots before committing are placed near. Supply trucks loaded and ready to go to the front. The forward operating base being rudimentary as the bare necessities are utilised. The tent being the only main structure. Filled with aides and support staff who rely information to the figure in the middle.

He is a dark-skinned man. Their bottom half of their face covered by a well-maintained beard. A chiselled face with piercing blue eyes is all that can be made out. A large cap covering their head accompanying the grey coat and armour. Shining marks on his shoulders denote his rank as Colonel. They are listening to the information being shouted out to him.

Colonel Leuchtend

"The Tunnel Rats have taken sectors one through to eight along with eliminating the enemy's airfield!"

"Orks at Sector thirteen, fifteen and sixteen have moved in on the bait."

"Navy is requesting an update on-"

"Janissaries are reporting Orks moving on bait."

"Chem-Dogs have been forced to stop at sector ten, heavy casualties but Orks are following the rest."

He hums in thought. A smile on his lips.

"Tell the Navy to bombard on the selected coordinates. All other Regiments hold until it is finished and move in. Status of the Dragoons?" The orders are quick and smooth as the speaker continues to look at the map. An aide pauses at a Vox-communicator.

"Squads one to four have been wiped. Squad five have a fireteams worth of survivors and Squads six to nine are fully operational." The news seems to hit harder as the Colonel frowns at this news. He hums in thought.

"After this is done, I will need to rest and get more recruits." He mutters quietly. Scanning the battle, he notes the amount of attention that the Dragoons would have faced on his own request. "You've made me proud." He whispers quietly as he talks to the other Regiment leaders over Vox.

[ ] Silrock. Remain on the planet. Recruits will be sent but for now you will be fighting at half strength. The main focus will be on combat, tactic building of the Vitrians.

[ ] Teldon. A pleasure world that will allow your regiment some R & R whilst waiting for recruits to be sent to you. Focus on regiment building, talking to people and relationships.

[ ] Ark 3. A cardinal world. You will be on a planet owned by the Ecclesiarch for all the good and bad that entails. Focus on potentially gaining allies in the church, cultural building of the Vitrians.

---

This introduction campaign is complete, short and sweet. One of the two final mechanics of the campaign is the debrief phase. After a campaign is finished you can influence where your regiment gets sent to next. A brief description of what to expect in the planets will be provided. Also I will be finally giving you a chance to name the character on the next chapter. The other final mechanic will be placed on Rolls for the Campaign information sheet if you want a hint.

 

[Tem]

Enemies come from a variety of races and as a result have different abilities, actions and thought processes. How do you get information on them as well as any buffs they might have? Perception rolls will reveal these things or seeing them used on you or allies.

Enemies of the Regiment, boosting rolls via their actions or just being there.

Snudruz Glintbita
Traits:
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH: Orks who hear this cry will gain a massive boost to morale. Able to ignore most wounds and and morale breaking actions.
Wounded: -5 to Combat Rolls

Snudruz Glintbita (With Gold Jaw)

Nemesis Of the Regiment, Hated Foe of your Regiment. They will hunt you to the ends of the Universe.

 

[Tem]

Just a fair warning, i did write a little bit of a horror section (amaturish of course) but I have provided a picture to go along with that section. If you have an aversion to uncomfortable feelings, please avoid the yellow text and picture with that. Along with that thank you for reading so far and voting on the story.

---

Spoiler: Choices

[X] Haunted. What your actions have led to is something you carry. Every blink you hear the whispers of your allies. Asking for why. Every step weighed by the gazes of the dead. Those who died because of your plan.
[X] Teldon. A pleasure world that will allow your regiment some R & R whilst waiting for recruits to be sent to you. Focus on regiment building, talking to people and relationships

Cleaning down the muck on your weapon sitting on your lap, you watch the distance silhouettes of tanks rumbling to your previous hole in the ground. The night sky illuminated by the moon that shines on the moors in front of you. The simple green landscape stretching as far as you can see with the occasional road grounded into them by a thousand boots. Your own boots are placed upon the steel beam to keep yourself from falling into the pit of soldiers grumbling in the hold.

The massive transport vehicles forming your convey, known as Gorgons, have not seen much use in combat on this world. The retaking of the Moorland was the first thing achieved on the planet via dropships. The rest of the world swallowed by thick swamp making them unreliable to transport or join in fights. As such this little trip with your Regiment back to the spaceport is something they happily obliged.

The slow pace of the massive Gorgon lets you enjoy this night as you lay back. One of the crew manning the massive heavy stubber just above you starts to hum a lullaby, the rest of the Gorgon crew singing along in quiet tones lulling some guardsmen to sleep in their cramped states.
You can barely hear it as you slowly close your eyes, letting the growling of the machine enter your soul as you sway. The lullaby drumming with it "There will come a time where I will look in your eye. You will pray to the God-Emperor on my side." You drift...

---

You sit, a rifle in your hand. A sword at your side. The door is closed. The house is made of metal and wood, slumbering with age with a cover of darkness lingering all around. The door Is closed. The windows locked and the house is barren. You are in a simple chair. You stare at the door.

The windows have figures pass by, a faceless mask staring for a split second. The Door Is closed. The house is quiet and nothing moves. The deafening silence continues. The figures at the window hold for a moment. The Door Is Closed. Countless things standing in the window. You cannot see their faces. The window is shaded, only letting you see their shadows staring, judging. The Door IS Closed. You stare at the door. Not a single figure is moving... Just...being there.

THE Door IS Closed. You know there can be nothing in the house but the creak of a floorboard resonates behind you. The sound creeping up your spine. Nothing...Another rasp of Something on a floorboard. Closer. Its footstep is slow, ponderous...slimy as you hear it. THE Door IS CLOSED.

Surely a look will not change this? The old floor creaks one more. Closer. A putrid tinge of a corpse in the air. The mix of a week-old body and a burnt almost leather smell tickling your nose with disgust.

THE DOOR IS CLOSED.

You turn your head. Surveying an empty room. No furniture. Nothing. You look back.

The Door is open

---

Hands jostling you awake. You fumble for a moment, your heart in your throat. Your eyes adjusting to the warm sunlight on you. You can see a beautiful sun rising in the distance, shining on the still dirty Botches standing over you. His armour still having flecks of dirt and faint smudging of blood stained on it. "Oi, no falling off now. We are reaching the port now."

His finger points to the buildings a few hundred yards away as the Gorgon rumbles closer to it. Nodding at him, you breath to steady your frantic heart. What was that? You check your weapons once more. Trying to forget whatever that was. You stand up as you get closer to the city, hearing the bustling city rummaging around.

The world of Juviek is a life-filled planet on the verge of leaving the feudal status and becoming something more, this is non more apparent that the capital of this world as you approach the gates and move through. The outer walls are gargantuan steel bulwarks carrying the damage of the Ork siege. Passing through you can see an inner wall of that same steel-like wood in the swamp, dwarfed by the outer wall but still wounded from when the Orks broke through certain points. The city is made out of the brick with the sharp metal structures placed in certain areas.

A far cry from the wounded ruins of the Imperial citizens you first came across on this planet. The scars are still there, buildings collapsed from the orkish rampage, some swathes of blood not cleaned up yet and pyres of corpses are seen on the outskirts. But it is healing. As you are driven through, you look at the citizens continuing on with life. Some are still skeletal, gaunt figures walking slowly to markets or homes. Others are fine, their body still afresh with food as they start to gather mortar and bricks. The city slowly rebuilds. A step at a time.

Botches watches the people passing by with you. You do not say anything and neither does he. Just watching, his face blank as he stares at his home passing by.

The Gorgan convey begins to slow as you reach the gates of the space port. The difference between the brickwork of the local world and the harsh, unforgiving metal of the Imperium makes itself known quickly. As you pass through, you can see squads of your Regiment lining up for check-up. Your vehicle comes to a stop and you climb down the side of the vehicle.

You slowly step into line with the other squads. You see none of squad one, two, three or four. The other squads are noticing this as well as they begin looking for more Gorgons transporting the Regiment.

You know no more will be coming.

You stand in place of your Squad Leader, the others in your squad stand in formation. The entire nine of you. Adrehan, Botches, The Commissar, the five others you do not know and you. It is eerie as you all stand in line under the gazes of the Regiment.

This doesn't last for long as the command element for your Regiment walks over to you, the Senior Commissar glaring at the squad. His brown eyes are made of burning hatred, his usual uniform covered by a steel plate reminiscent of the local 'knights' often on feudal worlds. His voice arm covered by what can be assumed to be a power fist whilst his waist has a plasma pistol attached to it. A single long scar marks his face, from his eye to his jaw. A striking beard only further attributes to the 'knightly' look. He looks at you.

Senior Commissar Zacharil

"I was informed you took charge." He pulls the cuff of his uniform up to his hand with his power first as he states this. You bark back.

"Yes Commissar." He looks you up and down carefully. Leaning close his voice comes out in a hiss.

"What is your name." Commissar Zacharil his shrill voice demands. You reply

[ ] "Private Lothar." Choice from the Author.

[ ] Write in – No last names In the culture of Vitrian, orphans earn their names via deeds or becoming nobles. Commoners can choose to forget their last names when enlisting to gain more renown. Nobles have a lot of pressure to keep their last names when enlisting and must perform excellently to honour their family.

He shakes his head at you. "Corporal, you will get your men aboard. Is that clear." Is his next command. You pale at the thought of leading once more, the judging faces of your dead comrades glaring at you as you blink.

"Yes Commissar!" You shout back. He nods once, turning to walk with the rest of the command squad. Presumably to go back to the Colonel. You know that the Commander of your Regiment has taken charge since the untimely death of the Major that was supposed to lead this retaking of the planet.

The Regiment speaking in low tones as you all wait. Transports come down taking two squads at a time to the Endeavour-class Light Cruiser 'Staunch Dagger' serving as your vessal for the journey. As you are the last taken up you look to the Commissar assigned to your squad.

"May I know your name Ma'am?" You ask briefly. She looks at you.


"Why?"
"So I may know who survived that horror with me." She pauses.

"Ashturn." You nod back. The companionable atmosphere only broken by the transport coming down to get you. The transport allows you all to sit, your numbers allowing you to fit into the transport with squads six and seven. Your own squad is silent compared to their bickering and bantering as they talk to friends.

Arriving on the ship, you see the Tech-Priests directing your fellow soldiers into certain hallways. Most likely barracks for you to rest at. Your own squad follows behind your own Tech-Priest. The man covered in red robes that barely hid metal bulging out at every opportunity. He leads you to a room made for a large amount of people, bunk beds and foot lockers stretching out along the room. You choose a bed, sitting down and cleaning your armour as you remove it. You ponder what to do on the ship for a moment.

(Choose 1)
[ ] Train to improve a skill
[ ] Find a priest to talk to
[ ] Talk to the other five survivors of the squad
[ ] Talk to Botches
[ ] Talk to Andrehan
[ ] To Commissar Ashturn
[ ] Help around the ship (meet new people)

---

Well, welcome to the end of the introductionary chapters. This will be entering the aftermath of a campaign which depending on the choices you make, it may go fast or slow). You have been promoted throught attrition. So your leadership skills are...subpar with what one would expect. So, with the travel of a ship going through the warp I will need someone to make a 1d100 roll. This roll will be added to the informationj sheet if you want to look for more. This will affect a lot of things in the warp, time to travel, attention of beings, attacks, disruptions or malfunctions. And since it is the warp the only way to buff these rolls are the attention of greater beings. First one to roll a 1d100 will get the roll to decide how troublesome or easy your warp travels are. Good luck.

 

[Tem]

Spoiler: Choices

PurposefulZephyr threw 100-faced dice Reason: How are the Four feeling today Total: 62
[X] Find a priest to talk to
[X] "Private Lothar." Choice from the Author

You know that whatever was in that dream, it did not feel right. It may have been a nightmare or just nerves but you would feel better talking to a priest. You nod to yourself as you look over the other guardsmen going to sleep. You stand and make your way quietly out of the room, your uniform still on and sword at your side.

Travelling through the large ship you get a feel for the scale of the thing. The cruiser, the "Staunch Dagger", is deemed 'small' by the naval elements but you cannot help but feel the twisting tunnels mixed with large open rooms packed with equipment shake off that classification. The time spent walking through the crowded tunnels packed with servitors managing the systems or the occasional Tech-Priest murmuring something as they are looking over some significant looking devices is mixed with the large foreboding silent halls with statues that stretch over to glare as you walk past.

You stop in one of these large halls to look at multiple signs plastered on a single wall. The white lettering stark against jet black metal catching your attention. You glance through the information seeing the 'Armoury' 'Bridge' 'Engines' with arrows displaying to the right. 'Mess Hall' 'Church' and 'Hanger' have an arrow throwing itself to the left. A final chart is an arrow pointing behind you with 'Barracks' 'Elevators' written under it.

You walk in the direction of the Church. As you do you can't help but notice how...clean it is. Certainly, cleaner than the rest of the ship. The simple metal floor and walls lined with pipes or the occasional console are replaced with a fine red carpet and more ornate statues of His Angels.
The statues seeming to judge with their marble glares following any passer-by. A door glitters on the right as the fine red carpet seems to end a few paces past it, the metal underneath continuing in another walkway.

The door is an ostentatious thing. Golden panels filled with miniature carvings of glory and sacrifice. Figures of the humble guardsmen to the mightiest Angel are showered in gold. The only thing that stands out is the symbol of the Aquilla. The symbol is a more mundane wooden colour that seems to be enhanced by the flamboyant colour around it. Seeming so...humble in what it inspires around it.

You salute the Aquilla before entering. The grandiose door is betrayed by the humble white and metal walls inside. The statues are of forgiving men and woman that seem to welcome you. Simple wooden pews are there for people to sit in and there is a well-worn, brown rug that seems to radiate a comfortable feel.

The church has some people in it as you enter. Some are guardsmen like yourself already in prayer, some are part of the navy and seem to be talking to each other in respectfully quiet tones and the person you wanted to see. The priest is in discussion with another man of the cloth. You wait as their conversation dies down.

"And remember, we always look after those who are troubled so that they may embrace the God-Emperor and fulfil their duties." The elder male priest speaks.

The younger one nods "Yes, Father Saul." The Father smiles before turning to you. You make the sign of the Aquilla as you approach.

"Ah, another guardian of the Imperium here to speak with a guardian of the soul. How may Preacher Saul help you?" His tone is light, almost joyful.

"May I speak to in private Father?" Comes you quiet reply. In return he chuckles.

"That's not a title I have apart from my son, please call me Saul or Preacher if you must." He gestures to a little room that whilst open to the church would be far enough from anyone to hear. You walk inside as he follows, the room is mostly bare apart from a table and two chairs and a cabinet. You sit in one as the Preacher sits in the other. "Tell me your burden."

(Perception | Dreams: 51+Still Fresh: 10 = 61)

Explaining what you saw is a hard task in the beginning. Then once you describe the figures you can't seem to stop. The entire thing comes pouring out of you as the old man bores into your eyes. Never flinching. After all is said, he sits back in silence. It stretches out for a long moment. No movement. No sound in the room.

"Okay." He mutters. "It sounds like something from the battle affected you. The God-Emperor's duties are hard, and as such he must test us to ensure we are capable of the task's set before us." He stands walking over to the cabinet and taking out a cup, a bowl and some liquid. "It is good you came to speak to me however. If you feel like you need to this again, I recommend you find any priest. Whilst He may test us, we can ease these burdens to make our paths lighter." He hands the cup filled with the liquid to you as he lifts a bowl of ash to his chest.

"Drink and pray to the Mighty God-Emperor so that He may diminish the load placed upon you." You do as commanded, the preachers hand touching the ash and displaying the sign of the Aquilla before pressing the ash to your temples. You pray for a while.

(You have found the last mechanic that has been active for the entire quest so far. Corruption. This mechanic is active on all the things you do. It will not be present in most choices and will only show after the action is completed. Your current status with Corruption was 15/100 now reduced to 5/100. Certain actions can be taken to reduce Corruption such as talking to a priest or other activities.)

You make your way back to the barracks feeling better. You are still feeling haunted but better about yourself. As you enter, you can see Andrehan sitting alone about seven beds away from the door. He seems to be looking at something. On the other hand, Botches is talking to the other surviving squad members. Finally Commissar Ashturn is staring coldly at everyone, glancing at you when you came in.

(Pick 1)
[ ] Talk to Andrehan about his past (Culture of Vitrian Blood Nobles)
[ ] Talk to Botches and the Five (Know the survivors and Culture of Vitrian Dragoons - Byhata)
[ ] Talk to Ashturn (Try to talk about her past)
[ ] Go to Bed (Skip to Teldon)