Game Thread Beware the Endeavors of the Youthful - Page 9

Zarimas · #**121** 06-29-2011, 12:46 PM

Lotan realigns himself and again pounces on the blind beast latching himself onto it's back.

Fierce Falcon · #**122** 06-30-2011, 11:35 AM

Lotan successfully manages to land on the creature's back, but to his instant regret the beast's knife-like defensive scales flare and twist to catch him in the limbs as he does so. The blades break away from the beast's hide and remain lodged in Lotan's arms and legs.
OoC:Lotan takes 3 wounds

Fierce Falcon · #**123** 07-19-2011, 03:57 PM

Brother Lotan, in a stroke of inspiration, wrenches one of the impaling scales from his arm and beings plunging it into the back of his foe. Meanwhile, Snorri leaps with barbaric abandon at the cat; fighting animalistic rage with animalisitic rage. He finds a grip on the creature's jaw again, and with lighting speed snaps the head around, howling with victory as he hears the cervical vertebrae cracking. Faust lands an acid spit on target, and while the cat thrashes in blindness, lands a series of crushing blows. The creature shreds his left thigh, but Faust is able to snap off a defensive spine and stab the attacker through the roof of the mouth as it lunges at his throat.

With the spearcats dead or whimpering their last breaths, the lights rise and illuminate the room fully. Another door opens at the edge of the chamber, and masked men in apothecary vestments escort the marines to an infirmary. Snorri's leg is tended, two severed fingers reattached, and his other wounds healed. Faust's leg is repaired, the graft-tissue doesn't quite match his natural skin tone, but with time it may. It takes forty minutes to extract all of the scale debris from Lotan's arms and legs. The other marines in the team are here, too, being treated for a variety of similar injuries. Dark-hooded men enter without words, inspect the marines with with horrifying devices that access their neural nodes and flash rapid lights into their eyes, measuring reaction time. Not one word is spoken to them.

Finally, Geriard enters the infirmary. "Your initial imprinting was successful. The next four will be more intensive, follow me."

You have no sense of how long the next phase of your training is. The few times you are conscious, the pain is incredible, and the immersion tank offers no clues of how long you lay floating within it. Once your eyes flit open just long enough to see Brother Sharp seizing violently across the room. Two attendants die restraining him before you slip back into the mental haze.

After this, you awaken in a closet-sized room, restrained to a interrogation chair. Vox-altered voices behind inquisitorial hoods interrogate you for hours, testing your sanity and pushing it to the limit at the same time. You're loyalty to the Deathwatch is apparently accepted, for the moment, and you each awake in the private cells you placed your belongings in upon your arrival. You have no idea what time it is, how long it has been since you arrived, or how you got here. The only sound is the hum of the lights. As you sit up, the shooting pain of a fresh burn ignites across your chest. Looking in your mirror, a twelve-by-twelve-inch brand has been burned into your chest, the symbol of the Deathwatch.

BarbariAndy · #**124** 07-20-2011, 12:04 PM

Snorri shook his head groggily, as if the action would bring his disjointed memories into focus. The brand at least, showed proof that he had passed the training. He looked around his room and found no hints to solve the question of: how long he had been on the station? He would still need to decorate this place, he told to himself, a trophy to commemorate another victory added to a long list. Flashes of grappling with horrible beasts tickled the back of his mind.

Somberly, he made his way into the flickering light of the hall, muscles aching and mind reeling. Knowing too well the rigors of Astartes training, he emotionally braced himself to find out which of the marines he had started growing attached to, did not make it.

Squirrel Fish · #**125** 07-23-2011, 04:00 PM

Blinking away the spots of light, Faust glances into the mirror once and catches a perfect image of the Deathwatch brand in his memory. Opening his field journal to a new section, the Librarian carefully recreates the seal onto the page. This would be a new chapter in his records, and deserves a new chapter in his journal.

As he finishes, Faust begins to unpack his few meager belongings. The Blood Ravens have little emphasis in material goods, preferring to live their lives outside of battle as warrior monks. The few belongings they do have (outside of their battlegear) are often gifts - tokens of inconsequential worth, but of sentimental value.

Donning his monks robes, Faust unpacks his necklace prayer beads from his satchel. A gift from an Ecclesiarch that his squad once saved, each oaken bead was engraved with a litany of devotion to the God-Emperor from the Lectitio Divinatus...with one exception. With blessings from the Blood Ravens Reclusiarch, Faust added a single bead made from ebony and inscribed a dedication of his own faith.

"The Emperor Protects, through his blood - his Angels of Death Who Know No Fear."

Reading the inscription again, Faust felt a sudden piety and gratefulness. Grateful that the Emperor saw him through all his times and grateful that he was given the privilege to protect mankind. Standing up from his bunk, the Librarian goes to his door and leaves the chamber searching for a chapel - beads and journal in hand.

BarbariAndy · #**126** 07-26-2011, 11:58 AM

“It’s good to see you made it!” Snorri exclaimed upon Faust entering the hall. The wolf’s still bare chest looked odd where his hair was shaved during the branding process, the inquisitorial ‘I’ surrounded by a forest of blonde.
Snorri moved across the hall, grabbing up Faust in a bear hug. “We should celebrate cousin. Let us go to mess for drinks and revelry!” The boisterous marine’s enthusiasm was apparent on his face, he hoped it would be infectious to the stern tempered man he was invading the personal space of.

Squirrel Fish · #**127** 07-30-2011, 02:58 AM

"Hah, the only way that I'll not be 'making it' is with an Apothecary's Mercy through my chest." Releasing the embrace, Faust clasps forearms with Snorri - a simple, almost universal sign of brotherhood. Faust simply couldn't help but smile at the boisterous enthusiasm of Space Wolf.

"I don't know how the Wolves of Fenris celebrate, but the Blood Ravens honor triumph with a tale of accomplishment. You share a story with me and I will give one in return!"

Fierce Falcon · #**128** 07-30-2011, 02:13 PM

As the relieved marines begin down the hall towards the mess (not entirely noticing that they know this part of the station in complete detail) they can hear the faint echoes of a Hymn drifting in the still air. There is no large enough chapel in this area for a choir, the song must be moving along the ancient stones of this bastion. They begin their narratives alone in the small mess, but for the servitors' unblinking audience.

Soon after, the robed Brother Lotan joins them. Though the monastic Dark Angel is quiet, his posture and appetite betray his pride in receiving the brand. The Chapter Masters would be proud of them all.

The Marines have around an hour to reflect upon their scars before Geriard arrives. His eyes are dark, weary but alert, "I am glad to see you in good spirits. You have survived the most difficult stage of your induction. Regrettably, Brothers Sharp and Azra require significant time before they are whole again. You will be moving on without them. The evening is yours, drills begin at six hundred hours with your Sergeant Khagan, he has been briefed on your upcoming assignment.

"You have received the Brand, but know you are not Deathwatch until you have proven yourself afield. Astartes may value bold action and standards...we value Discretion and a keen eye. Remember this.

"Enjoy your meal, I will be at hand should you require anything further. Well done, marines." The poised figure snaps his jackboots together before exiting the mess.

BarbariAndy · #**129** 08-18-2011, 01:54 PM

“Let me tell you about the time The Wolves cleared the tyranids off of the planet Rauldrum,” Snorri started, indulging Faust’s request for a tale. “This happened during Bjorn Stormwolf’s campaign against the ‘nid invasion of The Ghoul Stars. We had gotten a call from the 24th Veltos “Militia Men” Regiment about the hive fleet encroaching on Rauldrum, a key manufacturing planet that produces their chimeras. Those boys had our backs solid during the Seizing of Outstar Port, so we came to their aid.”

“When we arrived, the invasion of Rauldrum was proceeding full-tilt. Bjorn deployed us at sites of strategic importance around the planet. The squad I was attached to was Thunderhawk dropped onto the roof of the largest manufactorum where the chimeras were built. This important facility was packed tight with the buggers trying to set up some sort of egg laying chamber. The squad made short work of clearing the building and nearby facilities and planet wide, the Wolves were the hammer blow that broke the tyranids’ back, er…exoskeleton. After that point, all that was left was cleanup. With work coming down that Bjorn landed his drop pod right on top of one of their synapse creatures, our efforts went into a spiral of one-up-manship. I was teamed with Ola and the Iron Priest, Stein the Hansom. In the manufactorum, there was a near-finished chimera that did not have its turret attached yet. Since it was not being used, Ola wedged himself into the vehicle; torso into the driver’s compartment, legs dangling out into the passenger compartment. Stein and I climbed on top, Stein taking the chimera’s turret up with his servo arm so he could fire the multi laser. We tore around the manufactorum grounds, Ola wielding the chimera’s dozer blade as deftly as a knife. I attached a bayonet to my flamer for the sheer absurdity of it, slashing at ‘nids as we zoomed by.” Snorri paused to give Lotan a solemn nod as he arrived. He wasn’t happy to see him, but he wasn’t unhappy either. The Dark Angel was slowly starting to earn the Space Wolf’s respect.

Snorri continued, some of his exuberance lost from the interruption. “Any way, we took a turn a little too fast and ran full speed into a wrecked Leman Russ tank. Stein and I were sent flying from our precarious perches; he, right into the lap of one of the bigger creatures that was later to be identified as a pyrovore. I got up and ran to his aid, stabbing my bayonet into the beast; the whole nozzle of my flamer was inside it when I depressed the trigger.” He paused for dramatic effect. “It turns out, the insides of them are just as flammable as what they spit out. Though, I think you know that now…” he paused thinking about what they had learned from the hypnoindoctrination. “Anyhow,” he said with a big smile, “don’t try a stunt like that around any battle brother that fights without a helmet. That is how Stein received the name ‘Hansom’.” Snorri was barely able to get that last line delivered due to his uproarious laughter. Geriard arrived and had to wait for Snorri’s jovial table pounding to cease before he could say his piece.

Fierce Falcon · #**130** 08-20-2011, 12:06 AM

Snorri, Faust, and Lotan enjoy what feels like the first meal in a very long time, nearly as much as they enjoy the camaraderie. Their naturally social temperment made all of them uneasy during the solitary periods of consciousness they endured during the indoctrination process. Even brother Lotan risks conversation with his new Battle Brothers. Though Astartes remain alert for days in the field without sleep, the new deathwatch marines have endured great hardship, and they are soon to be deployed according to Geriard. Their bodies and minds crave sleep, and in the interest of peak performance, the brothers retire to their cells for much needed rest.

They awaken promptly with the exact amount of time required to don their armor and perform the dawn prayers and personal rituals before meeting Brother Sgt. Khagan in the training cluster. The imprinted knowledge of the layout directs them to the briefing chamber, in which they find Khagan leaning confidently against a holo-map projector. The swirling light of a planet and its satellites dances around him in the dim lighting. After cordial and hearty greetings, he begins the mission profile for the eager marines.