Cleansing in His name RP-Thread

[Steele]

(( To have minor OOC, put your text in double parenthesis like this.
Chars participating in the RP:

~Gnomesbane/Esteban Argento 9
~Durandal/Heim-hel 4
~Ghost/Larson Bell 8
~Ron/Zaxiel
~Tyranidlord/Alticious Thizerand 5
~endgamecutter/Fredrick Gothar 6
~Grand Admiral Thrawn/Mikel Beor 3
~shotcoder/Zadaes U'dor 7
~KamiKaZantA/Klintr "Afi Haddr"* Sigurðarson 1
~Kilroy/Maniac 10

*The numbers next to their names represent the order of postings. No killing/attacking in first post, agressiveness ok. If one of the posters doesn't post in 2 days of his turn, he is skipped, but can later post on the next spin.))

The Space Hulk drifted liftlessly near Fenris Space. Evil aurorus energies surrounded its presence, as the Space Wolf search team sped its way from a strike cruiser towards its huge, bulky form.

[KamiKaZantA]

Wolf Guard Klintr "Afi Haddr" Sigurðarson checked his trusty chainaxe for any speck of dust he might have missed. Pleased no such speck was to be found, he gazed over his Blood Claws. Twelve strong lads in their teens and young twenties exchanged the usual playful insults amongst one another. This was a good sign, the morale wasen't lacking but they were unfocused.

"Listen up, young pups! We are going in a potentionally hot zone. Check your gear, pray for your armor to protect you and cleanse your pistols and chainswords! We are about to breach the hulk in a few short minutes! Put on your helmets and steel yourself! If the Emperor is willing..."
Klintr pressed the activation rune on his chainaxe.
"We are in for one good scrap before the day is over!"
His Blood Claws roared in unision!
"Right then..." he breathed to himself "let's see what you got!" and braced for impact.

[Ron]

In an inner sanctum of the space hulk, Zaxiel knelt, chanting in an ancient, powerful language forgotten to all except the followers of Tzeentch. Suddenly, he felt a change, a ripple in the winds of chaos. He paused, considering this strange turn of events. Nothing of this sort had happened before, not since he first had arrived hundreds of years ago.

Standing up, Zaxiel hissed, "Intruders approach. The accursed Sons of Russ are among them. Let us go show them at they are not welcome." Drawing his sword, Zaxiel shouted an ancient order. As Zaxiel's cry echoed through the room, the eye slits of the warriors nearby glowed red as the Thousand Sons which had remained dormant for centuries awoke again. Their rasping battle cry reverberating through the hulk, "All is dust!"

[Grand Admiral Thrawn]

Blood glowed on the walls as the lights in the long, eerie hall flickered on and off. Mikel Beor glanced at his flamer to make sure it still functioned. Satisfied, Beor continued down the hallway, his senses alert for any danger. He also wondered how long until reinforcements would arrive.

[Durandal]

The landing ship flew swiftly towards the hulk. Inside the passenger hold, Heim-hel was deep in concentration. His mind was darkness; all that was present was the faint growls of a predator...slowly, the wolf's head came into view, and suddenly its eyes burst open, in a violent red light-
"Sir!" said Roknel. Heim-hel snapped out of his trance, and looked to his subbordenent.
"We are nearly to the Hulk. A working docking bay has been detected." was what the seagent heard.
"Has Sigurðarson's squad made insertion yet?"
Roknel reply was "Nearly, sir. Everything is appears to be going according to plan."
Heim-hel let out a chuckle. "Glad to hear that. Get the other men ready, and double-check that Heavy Flamer. Emperor knows what's on that accursed ship."
Roknel left, and Heim-hel heard loud and hearty cheers. He looked to his men. They were some of the best Grey Hunters, and he felt the best warriors, in the company, and he had faith in them. He looked down to Ruiner at his side. Normally it did not stir until the enemy was know, but something was already awakening its bloodlust. The feeling made him uneasy. But whatever it was, soon it would be dead; by bolt, by flame, or by blade. He would make sure of it. He lifted his helmet over his head, and secured it. As the visors powered up, the lander entered the bay doors.
"So it begins..."

((Ruiner is the name of his axe, which is the physical manifestation of a separate part of his personality. Look up John Steakely's Armor, specificlly the part about "The Engine"))

[Tyranidlord]

The shambling, tentacled familiar clawed it's way across the twisted and buckled floor, grunting and drooling ectoplasmic slime from a mouth that had long ago mutated into a mass of writhing sucker-tendrils. For over two hundred years it had been the lackey of his Oracle-Lord, a record for any of Thizerand's daemonic servants.

Loping, hissing with irritation it bounded across the heat-blasted floor and into the inner sanctum of it's lord and master, and despite lacking it's skin it could feel the sudden drop in temperature as the air within froze from the sheer amount of warp-energy that twisted and weaved through the air.

With a thud that was was more fear than what it was a movement of the air, a force, both terrible and horrifying dropped from the ceiling and towered over the cowering familliar. Strange wraiths of the smoke and darkness coiled around the terrifying figure, and it seemed that it was completely formed of fear that had congealed into solid form.

"Just where do you think you're going Warp-scum." The figure hissed through filed fangs, it's eyes sunken pits of horror and insanity.

"I carry a messsssage for the Massster." the familier gurgled through a collection of liquid squelches as it's sucker-mouths struggled to form the words.

"You're master is busy, and you would do best not to disturb him." The figure growled with irritation, razor sharp claws glistening in the darkness that formed it's body. Massive wings of shadow and terror unfurled and blotted out the light shining from the room, and despite it's immortal soul, the daemon-familiar felt fear course through it's veins at the sight of the towering Night Lord.

Cowering before the massive form of the Night Lord Raptor, the Familiar "My Massster bid me to bring him any developmentssssss, and developementssssss there have been..."

"You may let it pass Rakelle," the whisper echoed through the room, seeming to flow from the very air itself.

With a grunt of displease Rakelle, the Night Lord Raptor Champion turned and furled his massive wings in behind his back, locking his claws together and merging with the shadows once more. Despite their previous animosity, the Cabal of the Thousand Sons and the Night Lord clans on board had put aside their mutual hatred and to work together against the invading Ultramarines. Rakelle was now one of the few that had been gifted to Thizerand as body guard and protector to the powerful Sorcerer.

Hissing it's blasphemous thanks to it's continued existence, the familiar bounded across the floor, heading directly to where the air flowed thickly like sap and daemon-things chattered incessantly through the thin barrier between the Warp and the Material universe.

"What news do you bring?"

Lying prostrate upon the floor, refusing to look up into the awe-inspiring visage of it's master, the familiar refused to look directly upon the face of the Sorcerer-lord.

"My lord. More of the hated followersssss of the Corpssssse-lord come..."

The towered form of Thizerand paused in mid action, still sifting through and reading the twisting rivers of fate through the still-living entrails of his Ultramarine Captive.

"More? I thought we had entered the warp some time ago and cut off these pathetic fools from their reinforcements. There shouldn't be any more cursed sons of Gulliman able to reach us..."

"Not Gulliman my Lord, the Sssssonssss of Russsss..."

The was a pause from the Sorceror, and he slowly stood to his full towering ten feet. there was an uneasy ripple of barely contained rage that sent many of the daemons seeking entrance into the Material Universe scampering back in terror. "Really? This changes what I had in mind for these pathetic worms. No matter, more sacrifices for the Maw will never go astray."

Boots crunching into the crystallized loops of his captive's entrails, the massive Sorcerer stomped over to his cringing familiar. "Summon the Guard, and send Lord Kuteno to me. War is once more upon us, and the Maw is always hungry..."

"Asssss you Wissssh..."

Grateful at it's continued existence, the familiar shuffled off into the dark depths of the Hulk, fading away like a shadow to do it's master's bidding.

Stepping slowly away from the twisting and writhing form of his captive, Thizerand slowly stroked his squirming and writhing Daemon-staff, whispering a few blasphemous words of comfort and reassurance to the Daemon-thing bound within. he saw, through his powers the massive form of his Raptor bodyguard emerge from the shifting shadows, claws locked together and massive wings bound up behind his back.

"They are coming, the thrice-cursed Sons of Russ." He said to the Night Lord. Slowly, his head raising up and burning holes into the Night Lord's soul with baleful sockets that flickered with unnatural power.

"Gather your Warband. Begin the Hunt. But bring their commanders to me, Alive and unspoiled..."

The Raptor grinned, his fangs he only source of light out of the shadow-wreathed darkness of his form.

"Yes my Lord." he whispered with sheer malevolence, with like the wind he slipped away into the darkness and vanished from view.

"And now, my dear brother," he said as he turned the whimpering form of the captured Ultramarine."it's time to continue where we started..."

shrieks of agony were ripped from the skinless throat of the Ultramarine, as once more Thizerand began carving blasphemous runes and sigils into his very flesh and spilled organs...

[endgamecutter]

Fredrick Gothar continued to sit in his shadowed corner. he didn't know how long he had been on the cursed husk, as he had stopped counting the days, and instead the number of daemonic patrols that slithered by. He was hiding in the ruins of a thunderhawk, it was little more than a cargo hold, but it managed to hide him from the forces of chaos. his once brilliant blue and gold armor of the ultramarines was now a deep sanguine, its former glory all but hidden beneath the blood of traitors. A noise caught his attention, he looked through the remnants of a blast door, and saw a ship coming in to the hangar nearby.
He checked his supplies, he was almost out of bullets for his bolt pistol, his plasma pistol was in working order, his chainsword didn't look up for much more use, but that was just the shadow. He couldn't make out any identification on it, probably another chaos ship, attempting to gain control of the daemon-filled hulk. He began to laugh quietly to himself "finally...a way out of this warp-spawned hell! Maybe the others will see it, and we can get off this hulk for good! Chaos shall meet its end! for the emperor..." He took a short blade from one of the dead chaos marines around him, and sheathed it on the side of his jump-pack, he would need it. With a half crazed laugh, he took off towards the hangar, He would not be denied his escape.
((the ship fredrick saw was durandals))

[shotcoder]

Deep within the Labyrinth that was the Space Hulk knelt Zadaes. He was inspecting the corpses of three dead comrades. They were alive but mere hours ago, but lost to the long fight against whatever inhabited this damned vessel. Each time they were attacked from a different direction and each time by different monsters.

This was supposed to be a routine mission. But now they had lost more than ever imagined.

He grabbed any ammo he could off of his battle brothers and ran forth in search of any more survivors. Sprinting into the darkness he rounded a corner and stooped low. The ship began to groan from down the hall. Reaching back he grasped his chainsword and thumbed the activation rune. The sword came to life, just barely. he holstered it, it would be saved for a dire situation. He had precious little ammo left for his Bolter but would be fine for awhile with bolt pistol rounds. Pushing forward down the hall, he would finally meet those who inhabited the depths of the blasted craft.

"For Guilliman!" he shouted and sprinted onward.

[Diagnosis Ninja]

Larson Bell pulled the shattered remains of his combat blade out of the xenos' skull, and started to clean the ichor from his scout combat armour. He had been separated from the rest of his group when he had been tackled by Emperor-knows-what down a side chute, and wrestled him until they had fallen to at least the next section of the hulk. Upon inspection, it appeared to be a genestealer, but with at least one of the scum's limbs already missing. Hopefully he could find something to replace the blade, but in the mean time, he would have to carry on without it.

Stealthily approaching the next doorway, he heard a roaring battle-cry, and several gunshots come from the floor above, which could only have been Dandel and Arteus, the last survivors in the squad Bell had infiltrated with, Emperor knows how long ago. He should have realised how large a task this would have been when there had been Deathwatch sent with his squad, but now wasn't the time for meditation.

Arming himself with his stalker pattern bolter, he gently started to ease the door in front of him open. If he could find his way back to those two, then they might be able to salvage the mission. Turning on his blessed nightseer goggles, and advancing into the darkness, he made a silent oath to the Emperor that he would avenge his brothers.

[Gnomesbane]

Battle Brother Argento paused to get his bearings. Since his arrival on the Hulk, his squadamates had been picked off one by one. Brother Bareus was snatched off his feet and dragged screaming into the dark rafters by something unseen. Sergeant Kantus, upon entering a circular room, was suddenly sucked away as the floor itself opened into a gaint maw and swallowed him whole. Now Esteban was the only one left. He could hear the sounds of Bolter fire in the distance. Perhaps it was one of the other squads that boarded. He checked his Heavy Bolter to make sure it was loaded, prayed the Litany of Unjamming, and rushed towards the sounds of conflict.

[KamiKaZantA]

Klintr run out into the docking bay, deftly knocking down anything in his path that made a loud noise in the darkness. For one mad minute about two hundred years earlier in his career, someone mentioned to place Afi in the scouts. Ulf and his team of lone wolfs (who happend to be on the other side of the great hall) was said to have choked on his mead when he overheard the conversation.

Klintr's pack of pups spread out into the bay, checking doorways and looked after any potential threat. The area was clear, or at least seemed like it. He beckoned his pack to rally on him.
-Right, ready for some tactics? His squad nodded.
-Follow me and kill anything hostile. The younglings looked at each other with their eyebrows half raised.
-What? Not everything have to be complicated, he said and let out a roaring laugh!

-Follow me! he bellowed and stomped into the dark unknown.

[Kilroy]

Maniac and his squad lurked in the dark, they snuck through the dank hallways without making a sound, despite their heavy ceramite armour. It was a particularly large squad, 19 of the newest inductees to the legion led by a particularly ancient champion, Rogalf. Rogalf, had survived the horus heresy and was one of the most hateful and devious members of the legion. Of course many members wondered why he was only leading squads, and not armies. Others whipered that he was going to make his strike against Rakelle and the raptors. He strode in front of the rest of them, his massive powerfist tense, his bolter at the ready. His ebony horns bobbed as he moved. He turned to them. "The Space Wolves have arrived, you know what that means..." he rasped. He raised himself to his full height of 8'4". "WE EAT WOLF FLESH TONIGHT!". Maniac and his squadmates roared their approval and reved their chainswords. Maniac giggled maniacally to himself and licked his razor sharp teeth under his daemon-faced helmet. He would enjoy this.

[Ron]

Zaxiel paused, the whispering of Tzeentch hissing in his ears. "They are in the docking bay already," he hissed, "this way. Prepare to eliminate the scum."
He ducked into a hallway, his automatons methodically following. The dim hall was filled with the steady, rhythmic thumping of their heavy feet and the metallic clickings as they ensured that their inferno bolts were prepared to send the Sons of Russ to Tzeentch.

[Grand Admiral Thrawn]

The stench of burnt demon flesh filled Beor's nostrils. Creatures with no describable form jumped out at him through the walls of the halls. The closer he got to the hangar bay, the more jumped out and attacked him. It was his only chance at survival and regroup with the rest of his battle-brothers.

As Beor came to a T-junction, a strange quivering in the ceiling caught his attention. As he pointed his flamer to bear, the quivering turned into a violent shaking. Then a ray like demon burst into the material realm. To a normal human, he might of been caught off guard by it's sheer speed. But Beor was a Space Marine, with all the reaction and strength it's title entailed. Saying a silent prayer to the Emperor, Beor pulled the trigger and bathed the demon in holy flame. But the Space Marine made the mistake of standing beneath the portal. As the demon screamed in pain and rage, it's inertia brought it down on top of Beor. Beor dived to his left and landed on his back as the burning carcass came crashing down.

As Beor got to his feet, he was immediately thrown back down by another demon that must've came from the Immaterium. As he hit the floor, he lost his grip on his flamer. Beor had no time to dwell on it as the ray-thing came back to finish him. Beor moved his feet to brace himself against a fast, heavy object. Ignoring the nipping of the demon's jaws, Beor grabbed the "fins" and stopped it cold. He forced it down to the floor, surprised at how strong this creature was. Beor brought his knee down on the demon's face, applying as much force as he can to the killing blow. The ray-thing twitched one last time and died.

Looking around, making sure no more threats were in the immediate area, Beor got to his feet. Spotting his flamer to the side, he grabbed it and continued down towards the hangar bay, hoping others would also make it.

[Steele]

Mod Mark:
Beor manages to kill both daemons. ((Was it a user?))
((Oh, and also don't try to make it seem as it is dead, that is for the Mod Mark to decide whether or not the creature was killed, wounded, or escaped unscathed.))

[Durandal]

Heim-hel looked across the hangar. Debris were strewn all over the floor. There were roughly 5 upper level catwalks, all leading into side doors. Numerous blast doors and openings were directly across from him. The squad began to fan out, sticking to the cover of the debris. The thunderhawk remaind hovering just a foot or two off the ground.
The seargent turned to the chapter serf mounting the bay assualt cannon. It wasn't standard for the design, but after Perseus Delta, he never made an insertion without as much fire support as possible.
"You see any movement, don't let that trigger go till it's paste."
With that, he walked down the boarding ramp, and strode to his squad. He was no more then 5 meters from them when he heard it. He turned to his right to face a massive winged horror flying at him; it was moving so fast that in that short time he could already see details of what looked like Power armor of ancient design interweaved with the thing's demoinc flesh. In one swift motion, he grabbed Ruiner, and burried the axe into the thing's chest, and flung it to the floor. He glanced up, and quickly hefted his attacker to shield him. Bolts of acrane engery slammed into the things body. As he threw it aside, his squad and the gunship were already starting to unload towrads the entrences of the hulk. Heim-hel saw the Wolves' ancient enimies; Thousand Sons marines, led by an acursed sorcerer. The leader had incredibly ornate armor and weapons; Heim-hel felt that this was no ordinary sorcerer. Bolter in one arm, firing, and axe in the other, he charged for his enimies. As he did, he saw more Thousand Sons, with subtely different markings, appear from one enternce, and a large cadre of what appeared to be Night Lords from another, lead by an immeansly tall powerfist weilding champion, all while Night Lord Raptors dropped from the upper levels.
"Seargent Orekial, rig the engines, and get ready to blow them on my command!" he commed to the scout still aboard the gunship. He knew that barring some miricle his men were likely finished, but he'd make sure they took as many of the traitors with them. He felt Ruiner inside him, fighting for control, howling for the blood of his foes. Still charging, he let the inner wolf overtake him completely. What happened next began to become a blur, but not before he saw, an heard, the two Carnifexes tear through the right bulkhead....

[Steele]

Mod Mark:
Heim-hel manages to gravely wound 2 CSM [1k Sons]

[endgamecutter]

((well, its been two days since last post, so i'm just gonna get things rolling here))

Fredrick landed by a hole in the wall of the hangar, and saw the marines from the thunderhawk. They were space wolves, and they were in combat with both thousand sons and nightlords, so they couldn't be chaos, two carnifexs joined the fight as the leader of the wolves charged into combat.
"great, backup finally comes and now its going to be wiped out, i can't let the others run into this trap." he switched on the vox built into his helmet
"ultramarines, this is Fredrick Gothar of the assault squad, I am feeding coordinates of a hangar, avoid it at all costs, there is a chaos strike force backed by tyrannids engaging some space wolves. The space wolves were probably sent to clear this area, there may be more craft landing over the hulk."

switching off his vox, he looked around the hangar. The ceiling was barely holding up the ruins of space junk and broken ships, the whole structure flimsily held up by a nexus of steel bars. a smile played on his face, he pressed the activation rune on his chainsword. it sputtered, and died. the second time nothing happened. He threw it away in disgust, it was of no more use to him. He pulled out two krak grenades, and activated his jump pack.

he flew to the nexus on the ceiling, if he could break it, the ruins could atleast cut off the chaos forces from the space wolves. they might be crushed under it too though, he had to warn them.
"space wolves! fall back to your ship!"
with that, he jammed the grenades into the nexus, and glided to the space wolve's thunderhawk. The grenades broke the bars, and the ceiling caved in on the chaos forces.

[Steele]

Mod Mark:
Fredrick manages to cut off the Space Wolves from the Chaos & Tyranids, one of the wolves gets killed during the collapse though ((Not Durandal))

[shotcoder]

Running through the halls that lined the inside of the Space Hulk, Zadaes was trying to find any one that could help him out of this damned thing. He reached the end of the corridor and walked through the door that seemed to have been clawed open. Slowly he entered the room, his autosenses began going crazy. Toxin levels were off the charts, heat reading were forming everywhere.

Then his Vox came to life. At first all he heard was the sound of static. But finally he heard something coherent.

"......Gothar.....hanger, avoid.......Chaos.....Tyranids.......Space Wolves......more landing craft over the...." and the transmission ended in static.

He felt a slight joy come over him now knowing that Gothar was still living. He had to find his way to the hanger.

Then the Room shook violently. Pillars fell and control consoles exploded in plumes of fire and sparks. Losing his balance Zadaes fell to the floor. The shaking stopped and he looked around and the walls began to crawl. Heat signatures were running across the room. He pulled up his Bolter and turned on his helmet light. The room was full of Genestealers. He counted 15 before they turned their assault on him.

He unleashed with his Bolter. Letting loose into the oncoming Genestealers he reached for his chainsword. The front three genestealers lept into the air ready to finish him. But then the room in front of him filled with flames as the genestealers were engulfed. He looked down the corridor to the left and saw a squad of Space Wolves leaving their drop pod(NPCs).

He was safe.....for now.