|
new RP?
Jun 26, 2008 16:26:48 GMT -5
Post by lordcastellenjon on Jun 26, 2008 16:26:48 GMT -5
OOC.I think it would be best if we paused this for the mowment cadien
|
|
|
new RP?
Jun 27, 2008 23:36:46 GMT -5
Post by Cadian 117 on Jun 27, 2008 23:36:46 GMT -5
OOC: Agreed. Sun probly wont like it but it seems we dont have a choice.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
new RP?
Jun 30, 2008 14:01:12 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 30, 2008 14:01:12 GMT -5
OOC: Oh dear ... back from Denmark and a fissle and a pop... no matter I suggest the following resolution because I do not wish to stand still for another week... If RT has failed to stipulate a carrier I suggest the following setup:
Cadian: as you were, you're the badguy. LCJ: ditto, take Munk's grenadiers in. Suneokun: As Drangs strength is clearly in question, he will be 'led' in as a passive character. I will cheekily subvert Emir for this foray. Then RT can drop in when he's back in the loop.
IC:
Drang escorted an emotional Emir out the door. The freezing night made her spent tears rigid and her cheeks numb. Emir felt anger and frustration at Drang patrician manner, his stern callused hands on her shoulder. Her outburst had left her bereft, vulnerable and humiliated in front of the Cadian general. But Drang has to listen, she thought. He must rest. With no recuperation, his power and skill will be overwrought into the whirling power of the warp. The desire too tempting, the ease too great. Drang isn't weak. That's his very Achiles. He's stone headed, Grim, brave, but stubborn and proud. When others are in danger he asks the most of himself, but he never measures the cost. She smiled bitterly, glancing up as the musk smelling hulking shadow at her shoulder. Maybe because he never really pays it. Maybe because I do.
Beneath Emirs fine robes and smooth ivory skin, she felt the gut wrenching cramps that pulled at her when Drang drew at her power. He was her shield, her barrier against the whispering desires of the warp, but in return he could, and increasingly did, draw of her power with abandon. He would crave her forgiveness after, citing the desperation of the situation, or the need required. Yet in the guilty glances and deffering manner she understood that he knew when he took and the cost, oh the cost of it.
As they walked she whispered to him: "Kam, listen, you're scaring me. What happened today on Tau hill, I was terrified." She heard his muted shushing sounds, the way his hand gripped her shoulder. His exhaustion was clear. She pressed her advantage. "Let me and Kasson lead this, you don't need to come. You know I can handle Kroot, they're stealth is no trick to me. And I'll be better if you're recovering."
"No." Growled Drang, "I need to be there.." he petered out as Emir talked over him. "You're only just holding on Drang. You're not coming. We can't afford for the cadian's to see you like this, any more and we all know you'll be mewling like a baby!" She bit her tongue, she'd gone too far What if Drang loses it. she thought.
She needn't have worried. They'd entered their hole of a base during her tirade, and meeting the warmer air, Drang collasped into the chair. He was already asleep. Emir turned to the second in command, his Krieg coat lying flat.
"Take the master aboard the command cutter and secure him for the mission. He will awake at some point. As far as those arrogant Kochi are concerned, our leader is coordinating the assault. Prepare the nightcrew for knifework, we cut Kroot throats tonight!" She smiled, appreciating the necessity of this mission and the favours of hidden agendas it portrayed. She looked down on the slumbering Drang.
"Sleep well my Prince, I go hunting tonight." She smiled, brushing his corse hair. "Come dance with me when you feel the urge."
She swept to her robing room. her mind already thinking on weapons and attire for the foray ahead. It should be a exciting excursion.
|
|
|
Post by lordcastellenjon on Jul 1, 2008 3:29:09 GMT -5
Anticapent ruberd his tierd eye's cheaking his watch 1 hour till embarkation. 1 hour till he would lead the troops into the fray agine. as he stood from the bed he had cought a nap in he winced a soft whisper promising more power and control then he could imagine ringing in his ear as he spat blood onto the flour the reack of ozon rich on his toung. "I will suffer not the ways of the heritic my feat are placed firmley on the path of the faithful to the Emperor."
he prayd reciting prays finerley the whispers sesed and as did the sickley taste as he picked up a glass of water he could see it had turned to a putrid sludge that made his guts heave when he took a smell. "slanesh....." he cursed softley throwing the glass into the incenerator as he got up pulling on his combat jacket and tieing up his boots as he marched out bearet on as he went to meat his new squad he had comenderd for his own use. as he walked he whisperd a single prayer to him self. "and when he reachs death.. to the Emperor he will say. one more gaurdsmen reporting in sir.. i've served my time in hell....."
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 1, 2008 7:24:31 GMT -5
OOC: Nice work LCJ, I like the style.
IC: Emir stepped from the mercanary enclave with a bouyant step. The tight white coverall mesh held fast to her body as she walked in to the snowy conditions. Her force staff was secured across her back, easily released by the psychoreactive straps in place, it would spring her her hands in seconds. She had chosen a short form SMG autogun over her usual choice of laspistol. The cold played havoc on lascells and she enjoyed the way the "smug" machinegun bucked in her hands. Additionally, Akmed had singled out some manstopper ammunition from stores for her. The irony of it touched a chill smile to her glowing features, his doltish crush on her held its fringe benefits. Emir was curious to she this new ammunition at work.
As she strode toards the cutter, she noted how the tall Kreigman fell into step with her. Under his breath he growled: "The cutters are at standby, Emir. With Drang trussed up like a parcel in Cutter two. Why are we taking him, Esper? He's in no condition." Emir stopped abruptly and held up her hand. She looked up into the cold grey eyes of the Death Korp officer and noted the gritted knots of muscle beneath the skin of his strong jaw.
"Now my kreigsmarine, don't fear for my beloved." Hse reached up and lightly stroked the stubbled chin. Dasson shuddered, but whether from cold, excitement or disgust she couldn't quite see. "He is better protected in the enemies heartland than this Cadian nest. I distrust that Kochi squatrunt with his plays within plays. I suspect Munk is far more than the simple soldier he portrays and his motives are best kept at arms length until understood." She held Dasson's eye a moment longer. Wondering, not for the first time, at the loyalty of a deathkorp bereft of command.
"We must mount and meet the Commissar at the edge of the forest. Already I sense his troupe approaching the edges. Keep the cutters low, within the snow fall. We will hunt the woods on foot. Unless you are afraid to step forward without your master, Kriegsman?" As she spoke she entwined a knot of matted blond hair about her index finger. Dasson's eyes hardened as a flush of anger fielded his cheeks.
"Take your hands from me, Esper. I am no toy for your sport. I am Commander Dasson of the Krieg, and you live only on the cost your death would mean to him." He nodded towards the cutter. "Now mount, and save your vice-plays for the boys who do not know their source," his nose rankled as he look down at her lithe form, "the rot within."
In a moment the Kriegsman was gone. Emir stood with one hand on her rounded hip, head to one side and slim legs coquetishly positioned in the snow.
"Well that wasn't very nice." she said to no-one in particular. Turning, she mounted the command cutter and settled between mercenaries in close fitted night gear.
"That wasn't nice at all." she mused, as the cutter lifted and sped across the whiteness below.
Ahead lay the forest.
|
|
|
new RP?
Jul 1, 2008 14:31:22 GMT -5
Post by lordcastellenjon on Jul 1, 2008 14:31:22 GMT -5
anticapant looked around at the forest orentating his wrist map as he cheked his bolt pistol the young sargent at his shoulder egerley fiderling with a power sword and hell pistol. "How much longer sir" he asked in haviley accent gothic as he looked at a tree griping his power sword and thumbing the activation rune and slashign it down threw the tree as it seemed at first to have done nothing then slowley the tree slid apart with a crash as it hit the ground. slowley anticapent turned to the young man "now then... why's you do that?" he asked softley his eye' piercing into the sargents.
but before he could say any thing the mercs turnd up and Anticapant turned gesturing for Hammand to follow him as they moved to meat them the 4 chimeras all postiond redy to lay down fire into the forest at a mowments notice.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 2, 2008 5:55:36 GMT -5
As the cutter dropped down gently to rest, blowing up a flurry of frozen flakes, Emir dropped down for the gangway and landed lightly on the heavy snow. Orientating herself she identified the Commissar Anticapent, his dark clothing making him stand out against the frosted background. As she approached the Commissar signalled his attendent and Kochi Genadier, dressed in their shifting carapace beetle-like armour disgorged from the Chimeras positioned behind the Commissariat.
Emir noticed that Dasson was already arranging the Mercenary killteams to lead them into the forest, and noted with a wry smiled the additional guards stationed around Drang command cutter. As she approached, the Commissar nodded towards her.
"We have a mere three hours before daybreak to make our objective. What's your reading on these Merc's!" Emir could sense the layers of distaste Anticapent held in that one word. Still it was not an uncommon feeling towards her kind. She gazed out at the hooded trees.
"Kroot Merc's are an interesting set. They are less motivated by greed than opportunity." She paused as Anticapent turned to her.
"They look for an opportunity to fight?" He asked, his voice a wasted stattaco growl.
Emir smiled as she glanced at the man: "They look to feed." The commissar's eyebrows knitted in a look of savage distaste. "Feed?" He said. "Whatever for?"
"To extend their bloodline, to adopt new traits or strengths from their adversaries, to feast on the dead. Kroot are named carnivore for a reason."
"But I've faced Tau many times, and Kroot are rarely so motivated." The Commissar's arms crossed before his impressive frame.
"Yes, but when they fight for their own reasons in the stead of some "greater good"." Emir paused to spit lightly on the snow. "They're motivations are their own. The hunt and fight on their own terms and in that is our opportunity."
"How so?"
"They are unlikely to request assistance. They will want us for themselves. The Shaper will not inform our target of our encrouchment, as he will not want to lose face, but also he will know the Tau would certainly call for reinforcements." She looked out at their troops, the column had been split into two parts, each a Kochi detachment with outlining Merc contingent. They were ready.
The commissariat rolled his neck. It cracked loudly in the stillness of the witching hour.
"Then they are fools. As they underestimate my hatred of the alien. They're arrogance will be their downfall." He strode off towards the westerley group. Emir watched him leave.
Emir kicked at the snow as she walked down towards her troupe. Maybe the kroot hs reason for confidence.
|
|
|
Post by lordcastellenjon on Jul 3, 2008 4:20:06 GMT -5
anticepant got to his two point squads hammounds troops lined infront of the forest asanticapant daftley retrived his sword and bolt pistol loooking both ways at the troops under his command. a few minits passed as if he was awaiting something as he slowley closed a eye, taking a deap breath he pointed his power sword forward as he orderd threw the comlink "advance." the order was bearley above a whisper so the it would be harder for any one trying to listen in to here and understand it.
Anticapant looked around as if knowing there was no danger as the storm troopers behind him stayed low Anticapant stood tall not even flinching as he looked around "dam bug's.... I will show them the wraith of the Emperor." he growled
|
|
|
new RP?
Jul 7, 2008 12:52:44 GMT -5
Post by Rolling Thunder on Jul 7, 2008 12:52:44 GMT -5
Suddenly, the comm net cracked into life, the whip-snap sound cutting through the unnatural silence of the forest. Kasson jumped as Diego's mocking, laconic drawl cut through the static.
'Ladies and gentlemen, we at the Drang mercanery group welcome you to tonight's events. Please remember to switch off your plasma pistols, and remember that artillery support is completely out of the question. Myself and Viconia will be coordinating your personal ballet for the evening, and for your comfort and convenience we shall remind you that while the Emperor is busy for the night, he's asked us to make sure enough of you get back in one piece that we maintain a favourable kill ratio for the press. Please remember that the Drang mercanery group accepts no responsiblity in the very likely event of you getting your face shot clean off, and will bear no indemnity for any psychological trauma caused by any congratulatory whoops hear over the vox net in your last dying moments. So please sit back and enjoy the show.' A mocking laughter echoed over the vox net, ringing in Kasson's ear.
'You are one sick fornicateer Diego.' The laughter redoubled, Diego gasping with hysterical laughter up in his treetop hide. 'Have fun'. He cut the net.
|
|
|
new RP?
Jul 7, 2008 17:24:10 GMT -5
Post by lordcastellenjon on Jul 7, 2008 17:24:10 GMT -5
Anticapant grind as he keyed the vox on "dont worry mercs the impiriums storm troopers can shoot strater then you boys we will keep you coverd" he laughed as his chimra resounded with laughter as the commisar poked at the mercs "but dont worry Iam sure the emperor is watching for he is all seeing and all knowing and Iam sure he even cares for you mercinerys" he grind as he turn off the vox
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
new RP?
Jul 11, 2008 6:44:16 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jul 11, 2008 6:44:16 GMT -5
OOC: Great to have you back RT.
IC:
Emir smiled... Diego wouldn't have tried that if Drang was awake. Yet, something about these Kochi and that prudish commissar frustrated her. They weren't all they made out to be, and she was yet to establish the truth.
Obviously, Diego's own sense of humour matched those of the stealth suited mercs about her. Wide grins and nudges had followed the announcement of tonights entertainment. Glancing over at Kasson, she noticed the grim look in his eyes. She shook her head in exasperation.
"Come on Mercs, lets go catch some Kroot." they turned and ghosted under the silent trees. Light shadows winking behind her as the mercs spread out.
Running across the soft virgin blanket of snow, Emir pressed outwards with her unearthly senses. Feeling the pulsing ebb of trees and the vibrant buzz of minor mammalian life about her. As she puched out further she bagan to pick up traces of the Kroot outriggers, nestled down and hiding in and around the trees. Unconsciously she smiled to herself. I've been fighting Tau too long. She thought. They don't even register on the warp, and that can make a psykers work all the harder. Whereas these lovely Kroot are a little brighter. Sensing something unusual she focused mentally on the Kroot ahead. Much brighter I'm thinking. Unusually bright. Now what have these Carnivore's been eating?
Subconsciously, she weaved to the right ducking behind a mangrove. It's twisted roots splayed about her. She motioned Kasson and the mercs with short hand gestures and the group split and dropped, taking up defensive positions.
All around her, Emir could sense and feel Kroot minds, but they were different, twisted. The kroot's signatures were much stronger than she would have like. Questing towards a single emission with her psychic senses. Emir probed at the Kroot's psychology. Emir flinched in surprise. Behind the veil she found nothing, no recognisable trace of emotion of feeling that should have been laid out to her.
Kasson looked over at Drang witch from where he lay in the crackling snow. Damn the woman, he thought. Why were we playing dice with these Kroot, and why wasn't Drang with them. Kasson didn't really understand all this witch and warp talk, but he longed to have his captain at their side. As he watched the witch, he couln't help but admire her sinuous legs and thighs, but cast the thought aside like so much of the detritous of his life. Quietly he started to murmur the Krieg litany of death to himself.
Death comes, I meet it at my time. I cannot know my time, for it is for His eyes alone. And for his light alone. Let me meet my Death well, Let Him know I died well. Then I shall know. My time.
Emir was pushing hard now, her concerns fuelling her desire to capture this Kroot. She sensed it thirty yards ahead and pressed her will against it. Pushing it's unknowable light with her immense will. She aimed her Smug machinepistol at the point she knew it would appear. Pressing her mind harder than ever she impressed a single word. Step forth
She was so focused on the Kroot signature before her she barely noticed it as it sprang from her left, a scything hook slicing towards her exposed neck.
Out of her confusion, only instinct made her flinch. It saved her life. The Kroot bayonet scissored towards her exposed throat and jarred to a stop a bare inch to spare. The Kroot's rifle onto which this blade was attached had struck an exposed root. Emir look briefly into the alien eyes of the bird like beast as it peered at her through the mango roots.
Adrenaline hit her limbs like a storm and her whisked backwards through the snow. Blasting at root and trees, aiming to kill or slow the alien creature. The smug rattled in her hand as wood splintered and shattered beneath it's blows. Zeroing in on the carnivore, she fed her aim at its location.
With inhuman quickness, a step and her a preternatural blur, the creature phased. Appearing mid leap above her. Emir fumbled uselessly for her forcerod, her mind sluggish and rob of precision. So this is how I die. her mind tumbled.
An almighty thuderclap filled the clearing, and Emir gasped as the kroot flew backwards. It hit the mangrove like tree, its spindly arms catching in the splayed roots. It squirmed in pain a moment before it chest disintegrated in a powdered flower of red mist.
Kasson stood over the trembling Emir. The barrel of his boltgun smoking wistfully in the cold night air. Emir looked up at the grim Kriegman. A look of shock and confusion on her face.
"Looks like these Kroot have some new tricks on the usual, eh seer?" he grimaced and spat yellow in the white snow. Offering his hand he pulled Emir to her feet. She looked meaningfully at Kasson.
"Contact the Commissar, Kriegman. These are no ordinary Kroot. Looks like the kroot have been eating Eldar, maybe dark Eldar, maybe even the warriors of the laughing god himself. That Kroot was shielded psychically. It reflected and sitracted me. You saw how it phased..." she tumbled to a stop.
Kasson peered out at the quiet dark. "Looks like we do this the old fashioned way?"
He triggered his intercomm, best warn Diego and Antecipant.
|
|
|
new RP?
Jul 11, 2008 16:32:43 GMT -5
Post by lordcastellenjon on Jul 11, 2008 16:32:43 GMT -5
anticepant had turned his vox to silent only exscepting taps as he moved threw the under growth his huge form not enve making a sound as he leveled his bolt pistol cursing silentley as he holsterd it and pulled up a boltgun carbine that had been custom built for his use it looked a little bigger then a hell gun but was fashond with such art it would make a man freez as he gazed at its magnificent craft.
quickley the commisar took a knee braceing his weapon as he motiond for the storm troopers to take postions as he whisper softley "kroot brode up ahead... 30 meaters saftys off bayonets on..." he whisperd his weapon ready. as he blinked taking in his secound image of the scean before him as he screemd throwing him self back wards. Suddenley the silance of the night was shatterd as kroot rifle's kraked off as he rolled for cover more joind in as the air sizzled with the return fier from the storm troopers return fire at the xenos. The chimeras rumbled forwerds there multi lasers blasting apart tress and melting snow as there turrets stictch fire threw the forest aiming to surpres the enermy, there hull hevy boltors tearing threw the unde growth.
Anticeapant growled rolling behind a fallen tree leverling his weapon and squeasing the trigger the sound was deaferning as the weapon rored the bolt ziping off into some trees as suddenley the cry of a wounded kroot echoed then suddenley silenced as the unmistekable sound of flesh tearing was heard.
battle was joind and Anticeapent had not seen it coming
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
new RP?
Jul 14, 2008 5:19:47 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jul 14, 2008 5:19:47 GMT -5
Kasson ducked back as a stattaco rattle of bangs announced the latest incoming shatter of spinning projectiles. Resting the warm boltgun against his thigh, he thumbed his microcomm again, patching himself through to Sergeant Hammound of the Kochi 20th.
"Status, Sergeant?" He whispered. The Sergeant's voice came back terse and stressed, overlayed on a surfeit of cracking reports of Kroot gunfire and the whining rip of hellgun response.
"We're stuck pretty tight, Kreigsman. We've lost four boys already to these damn Kroot. The Commissar doing the best he can, but their covering fire is awfully accurate. They're sneaking around and between us and launching ambushes at our boys. They seem to ...err ... blur, I'm not sure what to call it." The Kochi veteran paused, reluctance obvious in his held breath.
Kasson hadn't reached his position or survived out the death pits of faulks ridge on Sigma Three by leaving a man hanging.
"Stand fast Kochi." His stern voice embraced a pleasure as he anticipated the risk. "Drang's company have more tricks to play before this days done. We'll be with you in 2 minutes."
"But how.... understood, Merc. 120 seconds and counting." The Kochi signed off.
Kasson looked down at the crouched Emir and smiled. "I hope I'm not exaggerating your abilities, witchseer?" The young psyker looked up from her console, a look of petulant annoyance on her face.
"These Kroot may be slippery in the warp, but they can't escape both my ability and my logic." She tapped the side of her head. "Despite their Harlequin-esque properties, they're still bird brains at base. It was tricky at first, but I think I've zero'd it in." She indicated the console.
"You need to concentrate your attack here, Kasson. Cut out the shaper." She smiled. Kasson's eyes however were grim.
"My thanks witch, but I'll take it from here." A whirl of flurrying snow announced the arrival of one of their gunships. Emir looked confused for the moment, quickly replaced by a suspicious glare to her eyes. Kasson laughed.
"I ordered you a ride, witch. Don't get me wrong, I want you back doing your job soon enough. But the witchhaze blanket bombing I'm about to release in this forest won't suit your sensibilities. I've had the other 'sensitives' pull back too." Kasson pulled EMir to her feet and pushed her softly towards the transport. Her eyes were wide.
"Kasson, you can't. What about the Kochi and the Commissar." she started at his clear, cold laugh. His eyes were murderous.
"Emir, I care nothing for conventions or the accords. I'm a Kriegsman and a Mercenary. Which means two things, I crap on the rules and I hate all psykers, witches and seers!
He spat into the snow. "Now go sit in your gunship like a good little esper and I'll let you know when all these psy-Kroot have gone weird." He turned curtly away from the cutter. His dark longcoat swirling in the downblast of the gunships rotors.
"What about the Commissar and his men?" She screamed. Kasson turned briefly, his stern features uplit by the cutters running lights. Behind him, the mercs were venting flamer combi rifles into the surrounding forest. Driving the Kroot back. He large blong frame shrugged.
"The Kochi are sealed, witchhaze is inhalation only, so no fear there. As for the commissar, I've had my suspicions about his party tricks. If he's a blunt like me, it won't matter. If he's not, then the Emperor himself with applaud that irony." With a swirl of his arm, Emir felt the Cutter jerked and rise as its pilot followed the Kriegsman orders. She felt powerless to help, she was no help against these psy-Kroot, her logic couldn't work fast enough to compensate when they did. This was the right course, but still, this stagnant wind would carry the witchhaze out across the Kochi lines.
Despite herself, she whispered a short praye under the thrumming rotors of the cutter gunship. Below her explosions of murky smoke erupted in the Kroot lines she'd drawn up. The murky smoke dissapearing as the wind caught it.
She bowed her head. More in prayer or shame, it was beyond her wit to guess.
OOC: LCJ there's a load of psycho-reactive witchhaze coming at you. It's not lethal, but will effect the Kroot and Anticepant is multiple ways. I leave these up to you. Have fun, think of this as an "upgrade opportunity". Cadian, you can drop in anytime with a Kroot eye view.
|
|
|
new RP?
Jul 14, 2008 8:58:23 GMT -5
Post by lordcastellenjon on Jul 14, 2008 8:58:23 GMT -5
OOC can I just ask for a PM on how this may effect anticeapent and what you mean by upgrade opertunity? sry man but the sooner you get back to me the sooner I know what anticapent is in for
|
|
|
new RP?
Jul 14, 2008 13:27:44 GMT -5
Post by Rolling Thunder on Jul 14, 2008 13:27:44 GMT -5
OOC: Errr.... Sun, I'd like to control my own charecters now, if you please. You've done a damned good job as is, but since you've already got a Kochi squad in there somewhere and I've decided that it's time to break some heads.
Drang
Drang's head throbbed. No, throbbed was the wrong word for a stimulant burn- a killer combination of dehydration, exhaustion, hangover and craving. He swore, violently and with incredible savagery- bitter, vile curses that by rights should have cut through the plate steel of the cutter's ceiling. Some vile, toe-crawling scumbag had pushed him with detox, and now his nerve endings were howling like someone was takinga file to them, and his headache was so violent it felt like someone was pushing needles through his skull, flesh and brain tissue.
With another burst of fouler, heart-stopping swearing Drang levered himself up and out of his bed. His head spun with the effort as he finally stood, nausea and pain crescendoing in his head and stomach. His legs wobbled, but he gripped the beadstand and dragged himself upright once more.
A few minutes later and he was on his knees again, retching violently into the cold steel basin as his stomach tried to empty itself, dry heaves ripping through his lower body in a wave of violent spasms, his eyes screwed shut against the pain. He stood once more, light-headed and shaking noticeably, face haggard and lined from fatigue, dark circlets surronding his black eyes, long shadows cast into the hollow, preadatory shape of his face.
Warrant officers Leffens and Korsi had heard the violent, snarling curses echo down the cutter's corridors, the skin-twisting sound of Drang's vomiting. Now, they waited, each man grinning with supressed, anticapatory mirth as they waited, ears straining for the familiar sounds they knew would come.
They did not wait long. Drang's heavy, dragging footsteps could be heard, coming closer and closer to the cockpit. A muffled thud, and another stream of invective followed. Both Leffens and Korsi burst out laughing. Every day, it seemed, Drang would knock his head on a doorframe or some other low-hanging object.
Drang stepped into the cockpit, eyes narrowed in a ill-tempered scowl at the two laughing crewmen. Leffens made a gesture of supplication, still guffawing with laughter at the boss'es misfortune.
'Where the devil are we' he snapped, his headache making him irritable and snappish.
'Where....oh god' began Leffens, before dissolving back into hysterics. Drang's eyes narrowed further, but he sat down and watched the two until they had calmed down.
'Well, gentlemen' he said, placing such sarcasm on the word that any lingering hillarity instantly evaporated. 'I beleive I enquired as to exactly where we are.'
'Ah, yes sir' said Korsi, sweating visibly at his superior's obvious wrath. 'We are currently in a holding pattern ten kilometres above the planet's surface, over-'
'Very good' nodded Drang. 'Now' he said, rounding on Leffens 'How goes the operation?'
'Wha-'
'The operation against the kroot in sector fourteen, Mister Leffens' said Drang, outwardly calm but for a low, growling note entering his voice. 'The operation I had intended to lead, Mister Leffens.'
'Sergeant Kasson just voxed the 'Harbringer' for a witchaze bombardment' he began, staring straight into Drang's eyes with the same cold fearlessness he had displayed on Minos II.
'Indeed' Drang said, voice cold and menacing. 'Do patch me through to the good sergeant. I wish to know his reasons for ordering a bombardment of psycho-reactive materials on an area occupied by an Alpha-level psyker.' Leffens neglected to ask how Drang had known Emir was at the combat site, simply routing the ship's communication network into that of Von Luckner's on-planet command.
As they waited, Leffens turned to Drang once more. 'Sir, I don't wish to be rude, but Lady d'Clemancau did instruct us to insure you were not disturbed....' he faltered under the furious glare.
'Then you have failed, Leffens. For at this moment I am very disturbed. Very disturbed indeed.'
Leffens shrugged before turning back to the vox-net. Drang was obviously wound up to en extreme about something, but a show of servile cowardice would simply enrage him further. He drummed his fingers on the comm-desk, eyes glazing as he tried to remember his service with the Inquisition. What happy and simple days those had been- never questioning the orders given- never realising his place, the consequences of his action. He compared that to his current state. A free man, completely free from any obligation barring those to his comrades. But was he actually happier? Did he even have the same chance of saving himself from war- the slim but distant hope of an honorable retirement replaced by greater hope of simply leaving when he had accumulated suffiecent riches? Or was he too caught in the same neverending spiral, buffeted by greed and fear to do that one last mission, that one, last mission spread out over a dozen more camapigns until finally his luck ran out and he joined the ranks of men face-down in the dirt of some alien world whose luck too had run out?
The stark buzz of the communications array cut into his reverie. Gunfire and yelling could be heard clearly over the net even as Drang leant forward.
'This is Kasson!' Came the grim Krieg sergeant's voice over the net, anger and tension clear through the static. 'What in the hell is it!?'
'I'll tell you what in the hell it is, Kasson' snarled Drang. 'It is about you dumping a load of witchhaze down onto Emir. It is about you either being criminally stupid or just criminal, and it is about me coming down there and ripping your worthless skull from your head if you don't give me a frakking good reason why!'
Kasson sighed. Over the vox, they could hear screaming- very close to Kasson, as if someone had just been shot right beside him. A breif pause, and Kasson answered.
'I got Emir out of here. She's on the Mordammusvector seven-five-two hundred Zulu. And as for why....' he paused again, allowing their hearing to drift back to the screaming. 'The Kroot have gone Harlequin. Don't ask me how, but they're shifting colours and leaping about and- excuse me'. The line went silent, before being punctuated by several short, sharp retorts from Kassons grenade launcher. 'They got the jump on us Kam. They've jumped us and now I'm trying to get everything together and its all going to the sh!t.'
'Okay' said Drang. 'I'll settle this with you now. Shall we say, a bottle of '47?'
'Two bottles' said Kasson 'And you can drink it with me.'
'Alright.' Drang said. 'I'll pick up the Mordammus on our way here, and I'll pull a grav-drop.'
'You ready for this boss?'
Drang paused. The question was loaded- had he recovered enough to even survive the drop and subsequent combat, let alone be of any use to them. Indeed, was he really even doing this for his men, or rather for some savage thrill of going into combatfor his own ends, his own twisted bloodlust warping his judgement and hurtling him on. He considered this, rolling his tongue over the tops of his teeth before smiling, the ferocious, cruel smile of a predator when it hunts unsuspecting quarry.
'I'm always ready.'
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
new RP?
Jul 15, 2008 8:20:06 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jul 15, 2008 8:20:06 GMT -5
OOC: Great Writing RT, loved the "Very disturbed" moment. That was priceless! Is the witchhaze cancelled? I'm a little torn as to what to do... with LCJ's permission I'll drop back and take over the Kochi. Set the scene if you like. Cadian's taking up the Kroot NPC role and I'll coordinate with him.
IC: On the surface of Kochi, in the Kroot Forest.
Corporal Darl Hammound had faced a few impossible odds through the years. His service with the Kochi 20th Light Infantry had taken him to many worlds. He would speak of red planets with blasted ochre sunsets, where a man life was measured in the litres of water in his flesh. Giant moonscapes where the terrifying prospect of fighting in low gravity and no oxygen made men shake and cry, feeling vulnerable like babes. He had fought aboard Tau cruisers and Eldar ships, boarding through giant armoured cables and scrambling into panicked combat with the desparation of rats.
Darl had fought the strange Eldar with their scything weapons and faced the terror of the Tyranid horde. Shooting desparately while the sky turns black and the land seeths. He'd fought Tau. He'd seen friends die, killed uselessly or heroically. He'd seen a brave lieutenant shot dead by a panicking commissar for choosing not to kill his men needlessly, then plowed through the mayhem and death that, that reckless fool had dragged them. He staggered out alive, sickened by the death of too many friends, too many faces.
He'd been shot, stabbed, had his leg sliced half off by an shuriken shot. He'd rescued friends, who later died needlessly, from wounds left to fester, from administratum errors. He'd lost his wife to another man, he'd lost his children to a new father. There was no home for him, his only placed a kindly shrine on a forgetful family wall. He was an ancestor, already buried by his family and venerated. He would never go home. His life was the guard.
It was all so fecking pointless. Such a waste.
Darl Hammound shifted his gaze awkwardly. His chin strap dug into his neck as he pushed against it. He could feel acutely the cold beneath his back, sucking the sensation out of his spine. Making his legs dead and cold. He could physically feel the uncomfortable ebb and pulse of his lifeblood pushing exorbitantly against the pressed strap, like a small heart beating in his jugular.
Darl Hammound couldn't actually feel the kroot blade buried in his guts. At least until it was twisted by the Kroot carnivore holding it. The corporal writhed beneath the pain as his hands pushed limply at the stock of the hunting rifles. Squinting up at the figure above him, a part of his reeling brain couldn't help but respond to the sheer xenotic quality of the alien above him.
It's knarled hands, skin puckered with overlarge sweat glands, gripped the gun with a strength he marvelled at. Cable like sinues pulled beneath this thick skin over whipcord muscles and bony ridges. The Kroots chest was small compared to its arms, but it's head peered forward like the prow of an imperial battle ship. Cold alien eyes, watched him closely, eyelids closing the pupils to slits as the knife twisted again.
Again, Hammounds hands flapped uselessly at the Kroot knife, their energy spent and wasted.
Hammound watched in increasing abstraction as the xenos moved closer, leaning deeper over the embedded blade. It's eyes were mere inches from his own. It's gaping beak maw hung open as if tasting or sniffing him. Darl fluid thoughts were surprised his body still lurched as the Kroot clacked its beak together mere inches from his nose.
His adrenaline pulsed waveringly as the Kroot looked down and lowered its serated beak to the bloody maw left by the bayonet blade. With a jerk the sinuey warrior plucked the gore encrusted sickle from Hammounds guts. With a nauseous sensation, he felt staunced blood flood the cavity again.
Pushing his head down he saw the alien dip its bladed beak to and out of sight inside Hammound's own body. His revulsion soared as he was gently jerked back and forth. The Kroot was eating him, he couldn't feel it directly, but his mind placed sounds and motion together and revolted wholesale at the notion.
Unknown strength coursed about his body. His heart hammering in self preservation he'd long thought useless. He might be near death, but no Kroot would hasten him. Jerking his eyes left and right he noticed the broken blade of his power sword lying beside him. Masked by the hungry jerks and tearing noises of his own demise he clasped a palsied hand about the blade.
It wasn't live, the blade severed from the hilt and its power source. A mystified part of Hammounds mind wondered at the lasting symitry of this. The broken and bloodied man, dying by moment, clutching a broken blade, devoid of power.
Moving the blade cautiously to his chest he fastened his other hand about it and held it in line with his body pointing towards the Kroot. His torso was still pulled about lightly as the alien ate its fill and his blood made the blade slick where its sharpened edge cut his numb hands. Hammound could feel his strength waining, but one thought kept tracking though his brain.
Not yet, corporal. So can't see him clear. Stop hiding down there and look at me, look at your food, Kroot. And you're food will play with you. he smiled.
Sensing a stillness about its kill, the Kroot warrior paused. Abviously its feast had died, a pity but edible none the less. Moving to get a better angle about the ribs to the liver the Kroot glanced up at its prey. It only had a moment to notice the bunched fist and concentrated eyes before a broken shard of power sword drove through its bisected avian eyes, slicing into its brain.
Brilliant. Thought Hammound, a lithe ropey figure twiching spastically on top of him. Emperors Hood, Now he's trying to mate me? Well at least he took me for dinner first...
|
|
|
new RP?
Jul 15, 2008 11:33:02 GMT -5
Post by Rolling Thunder on Jul 15, 2008 11:33:02 GMT -5
OOC: No, no, not at all. The witchhaze is most definitely still inbound. I decided it will be one of my mercanery ships, thats all (I feel its a little more plausible for so specialised a weapon to be deployed by the mercenaries rather than the Imperium per se.)
|
|
|
new RP?
Jul 15, 2008 14:13:26 GMT -5
Post by lordcastellenjon on Jul 15, 2008 14:13:26 GMT -5
(LOL so has the witch haze hit Iam taking it it has and errm... lets just say your merc buddy aint gona like the pissed off anticapent after this ) anticapents eye's widend as he threw a punch at thin air just as a kroot apeard there and got its beack broken by the impact as the knukle duster smashed into it ichor and bone flying away. it was'nt the suddenley apearing kroot infront of him it was what he now seen above him. slowley the stare in the midday sky fell or so it seemed then joind by more falling faster and faster.... what was it life eater... bio.. atomics all he knew was that it was bad... very bad. finerley the shells impacted and a substence anticapent had whished never to come into contact with spewed from the detonation attacking his body as soon as it touched his skin. first it blisterd as the haze enterd his body his heart thumping threw his head as blood felt like it was going to burst ever capilery vain and artery in his body. his vission swame time seeming to revel its self in leaps and bounds. he seen the emperor blessed be his soul on the throne of gold sat imoble the throne slowley failing him. he seen the impirium on a map of the galixy exspanding in one area withdrawing in another holding in many more. he seen the angles of death fighting the many foes. But what anger anticepant most was he was gifted with a view of the abnocsuis merc who had orderd this strick and caste his and his mens fates to the emperors choice... and sealed his own if anticapent lived threw this. suddenley he felt pain a blunt smak to his face the clicking of beacks echoing around him as he felt him self hit something solid that refused to move when he fell. from what seemed meny miles away he seen a kroot over him blood smearing one eye and he knew the thing had struck him slowley with each secound fealing like the laws of gravity where toying with him pushing onto him 10 times the normal amount for this world. He returnd to him self. he griped his bolt pistol fiering before it was aimed the bolt burrying its self in the kroots groin and blowing its torso to mist. slowley Anticapent stood then fell to his knees as he vomited furiousley when there was nothing left a thick tar like substance with the darkness of black ink spewed from his mouth. all anticeapent could here in his mind was the crule laughter of a prevese god. and the stench of a plage lord "I will not suffer the preversions of slanash or the carruption of decay of nurgle I will stay true to my lord the emperor and his relm of the impirium." anticeapent may have been vomiting but his voice was raised from unable lips echoing from the sarounding trees. one of the stoormtroopers a privet seen the kroot stood over anticapent its blade held high ready to strick deap into his body. hurryedley he thumbled with the commisars carbine boltor bringing the dot sight to his eye aiming at the kroots head and with a all might boom the kroot was dead a fiery display of energy where its head was as suddenley the body was sucked into its self as the commisar roled away from his pool of vomit grabing the silver aquile on his cheast shaking as he prayed to the empieror. he had seen the chaos gods... and he had lived to tell of there tratorus intents for him.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
new RP?
Jul 15, 2008 16:28:04 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jul 15, 2008 16:28:04 GMT -5
OOC: Nice pick up LCJ, that was some stellar stuff. Can't wait to see how Antecepant comes through this.
IC: Private Dorner yowled in pain from the enormous kick the boltgun had made. Already he could feel the bruise raising in his shoulder. Wow that kicks stronger then my plasma! he thought as he hurried over the the supine Commissar. Over the whine of hellgun fire and the crack of kroot armament, he could hear strange alien hoots and catcalls through the forest. Them Kroot put the willies up me, he thought. He propped his special issue plasmagun on his right arm and placed the smoking bolter beside its master.
"Well you look like the Emperor just chewed you up and spit you outta, Mr. Commissar." Without turning the cramped up officer over he felt his pulse. It was absolutely racing, whatever artillery had landed had release something into the air, something evil. Dorner felt iching at his mouth and eye guards and wondered at the stuff. Whatever it was, the Kroot had gone mad on it. Hollering and charging.
Remembering himself, he quickly glanced about. The only Kroot about were Dead, bloody and still. For the moment, that was. As he looked down at the commissar again he froze. He was sure he'd heard something around the tree. The plasma rifle was cocked and aimed before he'd even thought.
Already Dorner's slow thoughts were going into overdrive. Master Munk says so. Dorner got sharp eyes. He's said I got sharp eyes and that be the better for my head. Master Munk says I don't need imagination, thats for scribes and mechs. I need sharp eyes, and that why he give me a special job, and the bestest gun. I got the best eyes in the regiment he said. Dorner often said this to himself, he rarely questioned his role now. Master Munk had given him a job and have told Dorner he was the best bestest for that job.
Another rattling sigh came from up ahead. Dorner thought it sounded a bit like a man, but also like a drain. Like a man-drain, yes that it. Suddenly he froze. He could see a foot ahead. It had brown moccassins on, it wasn't moving. One of them Krooty, best dead. He paused looking at the Kroot foot. Don't move Krooty. I got plasma.
As he inched forward, another rasp came from the Kroot body and the leg shuddered. Dorner gripped his rifle tight and stalked cautiously towards the body. He couldn't see any other Krooty about. And something was familiar about that breathing. Hang about, that Krooty's got four legs... and half of them is wearing Kochi gear.
As Dorner's brain struggled with this one, he suddenly remembered why that breath was so familiar. He heard and felt it in his face and down the back of hit neck at training and in the parade ground. That was Corporal Hammounds breath! But why does this Krooty breath like Mister Hammound? he wondered.
At that moment a rasping rattle of a voice spoke from the Kroot. Dorner nearly crapped in pants. "Of all the fine, upstanding, hard working, good shooting, tough sons of the Kochi I got working for me. I get found by you Dorner. Dammit, now stop standing there multiplying your timetables and get this stinking Kroot off me!" Dorner rushed to comply, shouldering the plasmagun and pulling the lithe Kroot aside.
He didn't feel too bad about the names the Corporal had called him. Well he thought he might have called him names. Dorner struggled to keep up. Anyhow, mister Hammound had a great deal on his mind, and his midrift was missing.
"Anything I can do boss?" Whispered Dorner crouching down. He thought it was the best thing to say. Hammound chuckled and further globules of blood burst his lips to settle on the dried blood already there.
"No Dorner, I'm just great!" He peered at the private. "Where's the commissar Dorner?"
Dorner thumbed loosely over his shoulder, "He's lying down mister Hammound. He doesn't look good." Dorner nodded and then paused, he faced blanched by pain.
"Dorner, the Mercs released a nerve toxin in the woods. It's got the commissar, but it was meant to get the Kroot. The Kroot are all crazy, yes?" the corporal paused, noting Dorners eager nodding. Thankfully the private knew when to keep quiet. Hammound continued.
"They'll be coming for the Commissar now, look after him. Take my pistol, you'll need it if the plasma gun jams." He paused looking up at the grunt. The joke of the unit was now his greatest hope. "And Dorner, don't miss, keep you're gun happy and make me proud..." He could feel himself finally slipping away. A great emptiness was opening up beneath him and he was sinking into a falling blackness. Weakly Hammound patted Dorner hand.
"You're a good boy Dorner..." he whispered.
Dorner clutched his plasma gun to himself. "Don;t you worry about me sir, I watch over Commie careful like. Mathilda good to me, don't hurt Dornie. I help Commie, back soon." Before he'd even started, Corporal Darl Hammound was dead.
The special weapon trooper stood and grasping the corporal hellpistol staggered over to the Commissars position. Placing the plasmagun in its holster, he heafted the commissars boltgun and checked the chamber. He then checked the charge on the hellpistol against the spare packs from his backpack.
Crouched. Scanning the forest with a plasmarifle snuck to his hip, he listened. Listlessly he brushed his free fingers against the braid on the Commissars shoulder. I wonder when this man gonna wake up, we go home. He thought.
As he watched quietly, he hummed a childhood lullaby to himself. He couldn't remember the words, something about the Emperor and a mighty crusade. As he mumbled to himself, Alien shapes emerged from the still darkness. Crooked hands and bloody beaks cocked to one side to hear. Random twitches and strange coo's and yowls escaped them.
Slowly Dorner thumbed the power meter on Mathilda to lowest setting. He was gonna need a lot of shots.
Time to keep me promise. he thought. Mathilda blazed in his hands.
|
|
|
new RP?
Jul 15, 2008 16:59:08 GMT -5
Post by lordcastellenjon on Jul 15, 2008 16:59:08 GMT -5
before the privet even aimed his plasma a deaferning war cry exsploded from anticapent his throat tearing with its force "FOR THE IMPIRIUM OF MAN... AND FOR THE EMPIROR" he rored one of the kroots closesist shaking clutching at its head as blood ran from its eye's.
then anticeapent was up his batle dress looking like it would tear any secound as he glared at the kroot threw closed eye's "and when the corprol reaches the emperors side he will feast there till the end of time" he growled slowley pulling out his power sword and with out even thumbing the power rune the blade hummed to life as a thunder clap smashed into 3 of the kroot reducing there face to shatterd glass as the commisar grind darkley at the xenos.
"whos next" he whisperd in a siris of soft clicks that sounded like the kroot toung of comunication
suddenley he moved bearley but calmley moving his right leg forward rising his sword and inverting his grip plunging it backwards as a kroot apeard above him the power sword already in its guys as he steaped forwards with the grace of a dancer twearling his sword another kroot jumped it was in mid air its weapon rised to deliver a hammer blow suddenley it found its arms and head leaving its body.
anticapent gentley turned his hand gracfuley findign his bolt pistol the emperors prayer on the bareal as he spun fast his first agressive action of his fight the barrel in the face of the kroot leader "bang" he whisperd softley as the kroot flinched backing away. it's head exsploded before the muzzle even spwed its flames.
anticapent looked around the kroot now lieing dead at his feat "now Iam sure I counted more then this" he whisperd scratching his head slowley moving to holster his bolt pistol as he kept a hold on his power sword suddenley he snaped his aim to a bush bearley feat from dorner his aim at the privets left ear as the commisar fierd 3 shots then what was left of the final kroot warrior feal on top of the poor privet.
"look livley boy... we got a shaper to take out" he chukled smiling at the privet
|
|
|
new RP?
Jul 15, 2008 18:14:30 GMT -5
Post by Cadian 117 on Jul 15, 2008 18:14:30 GMT -5
The Human hadnt even noticed the movement in the trees and on the ground. Seperated from his unit, he was an easy target. Aakall raised his bladed hunting rifle and brought it down on the Kochi's head, straight into his brain. He had been careless, took off his helmet, so he had to be the one to die. "Feed brothers, but be quick, there are humans to kill."
|
|
|
new RP?
Jul 16, 2008 3:20:06 GMT -5
Post by lordcastellenjon on Jul 16, 2008 3:20:06 GMT -5
Anticapent growled seeing the kroot drop from the trees as he griped his power sword tightley "XENO FIGHT ME" he screamed chalaging the kroot to a one on one dule as he took powerfull strides towards his target lighting lashing from his powersword spliting tree's and atacking kroot as if it had a mind of its own.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
new RP?
Jul 16, 2008 5:43:51 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jul 16, 2008 5:43:51 GMT -5
Dorner grabbed up his hellpistol and bustled after the charging Commissar. Gotta keep me promise, gotta save mister Commie. Dropping to one knee he levelled the plasmarifle and aiming unconsciously squeezed the trigger. Mathilda responded with a flurry of shots, cutting a stunning swath of blue light haloing the frenetically charging Commissar.
Each shot found a home. The feasting Kroot bucked and melted as low power plasma splashed into their ranks like horizontal rainfall. Without even thinking on it, Dorner held his fire and checked his ammo. The plasma generator was humming softly, but behind the steady drone Dorner could make out a mild squeeking.
"Aww Mathilda. Looks like you got another mouser." He mumbled to himself. Across the clearing the Commissar was slashing left and right with his sword, skewering and slicing Kroot who were hapless to hit him,but helpless in their desire to kill him.
As Dorner ejected the bulbous plasma charger, a hoot and howl announced the approach of further Kroot warriors. Dorner looked carefully at his useless rifle and then at the ejected clip. With a moment hesitation he pulled back his arm and sent the globe flying towards the point at which he somehow knew the Kroot would arrive. Carefully watching the globe sail across, the private inserted a new plasma clip and pulled Corporal Hammounds hellpistol from his belt.
The plasma charger struck and split just as four Kroot scampered into the clearing, disintegrating the feet of the first two. Their compatriots leapt and blurred, streaking through the air and landing to the left and right of Dorner. Dorner didn't know why he knew, but he just knew.
The hellpistol laser cut sliced the jugular of one Kroot, sending it staggering back. Meanwhile the other Kroot was immolated from neck to sternum by the plasma ball at max strength that carved through it's body.
Dorner stood for a moment, gazing at his two weapons. Something was going on here, something very strange. In his bewilderment, he barely heard the soft clicks behind him.
"Get down!" Yelled Commissar Antecipant. Body charging the private and slamming him to the iron cold floor. Whipcrack shots issued through the clearing as the Commissar rolled and lept sideways, two immense blasts issuing from his Boltgun.
The pair of footless Kroot, lying shaking in the snow, cradling their longrifles vanished in a pop of red mist. Their lifeless arms falling to the snow as their useless legs thumped a lurid tatoo on the bloody snow.
The Commissar pulled Dorner to his feet and grasped his shoulder. The commissars eyes blazed with vitality and energy, and Dorner was a little intimidated by the enormous man.
"Fine shooting, private. You made me a light job of revenging your colleague over there." Dorner thought for a moment that the Commissar was angry with him, and his back straightened into attention. A slow smile spread across the skeletal face as the Commissar looked deep into Dorners eyes.
"I watched you private, from the clearing over there. You knew where the Kroot were coming from didn't you?" Dorner could do nothing but nod. "You're like me are you, pre-cognative?"
Dorner didn't know what precognathingy was, but he did know somethings. "Mr Commie, I dint do no precogthing before now. It was strange, like I suddenly just could."
A sharp intake of breath met this statement. Dorner noticed that the Commissars eyes weren't on him now, but almost looking inwards.
"Is that so ... we should find out more on this later." The Commissar paused. "Nevertheless, I need a good gunarm at my side now the Corporal is dead. Care for the job, mister ...?" Antecipant indicated for the private's name.
"Yessir, I got you're back sir. Dornie and Mathilda are gonna look after Mister Commie. We promised Mister Hammound we would. We will. Where you wanna go, sir?" The private saluted.
Antecipant cheked himself with shock. This prizefighter, this supreme warrior, who fired like a demon and seemingly moulded to his own abilities, was three men short of a command squad.
"Err ... this way private, I think." Replied Antecipant, as he walked towards from the clearing. Behind him the sturdy private stomped along. After a while a soft humming came from the man, 'Emperor's Righteous Joy.' thought Anticepant.
Trudging through the snow, the Commissar rolled his eyes.
|
|
|
new RP?
Jul 16, 2008 11:03:49 GMT -5
Post by Rolling Thunder on Jul 16, 2008 11:03:49 GMT -5
A dull, rumbling thud echoed through the Mordammus. Emir D'Clemencau barely heard it, supine on her bunk as she silently cursed Kasson for his blind, unthinking arrogance.
A hot, violent flush of anger coursed through her, reaching it's reddish tendrils up into her mind before she frantically seized it and threw it back into it's cage. That had been too close, she thought, tears of frustration and shame trickling unnoticed down her normally ivory complexion now so flushed and angry it should have boiled them away.
Damn Kasson! His petty, self righteous spite was par for the course even amongst a good number of the fractious, ill disciplined mercenaries, but it was with the arrogant, cocksure impunity that he regularly insulted her- as if he knew she could never bear the shame of telling Drang, as if he could somehow calculate the precise degree of torment he could inflict before her pride would let her upset his illusions.
'Why do you cry, O pretty lady?'
Emir's head snapped up. Standing in the doorway was Kamenev Drang, tall, dark and smiling- not the savage, cruel leer of the warrior, but the rare, elegant smile of a kind, loving man- a smile that didn't tear his face across in fury but lit it in a gentle, protective glow.
In one movement Emir had leapt up from her bed, crossed the room and flung herself into his arms. Drang blinked, suprised but immensely pleased by this sudden outburst of affection, before hugging her back, returning the almost-painfully tight grip by draping his arms around her in a firm, protective circle.
For a those short, brutally few seconds, they held one another, their arms the edge of a private universe in which there was no conflict, no fear and no death, a beautiful, jeweled ornament of a moment that shattered like glass against the cold metal floor with a tiny, discreet cough.
Leffens stood waiting, his stance apologetic but fearless as he met the brief, murderous flash of rage in Drang's eyes before his usual, equiminous temper prevailed.
Sighing, he turned back to Emir, looking down into that pairn of brown eyes that held his soul. He reached out, and gently wiped away a tear from her alabaster cheek.
'Why the tears Emir?'
'Oh, it's nothing' Emir replied, smiling wryly and trying to pass it off as a personal problem.
'Come on, you can-'
'Its nothing' she replied, a gentle discouragement to any further inquiry.
Drang paused, confused for a moment, before his logical brain kicked in and told him further questioning was fruitless.
'Okay'.
'Drang' growled Leffens, aware he was intruding on another private moment, but growing tense with his superior's wasting time 'we have to go if you want to make the drop.'
Drang glared, nodded, and they left.
|
|
|
new RP?
Jul 17, 2008 0:11:33 GMT -5
Post by Cadian 117 on Jul 17, 2008 0:11:33 GMT -5
The ground suddenly opened up, and the three Kochi soldiers fell, to their doom, hitting the pungi spikes at the bottom, taking them to the Emperors throne. "Traps! Watch where you step!" yells a trooper, who almost fell in himself.
|
|