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Post by halonachos on Jul 25, 2016 20:46:07 GMT
"The law stipulates that when behind enemy lines we should do our best to disrupt the enemy and also says that we cannot leave equipment..." Nathanial said, the taste of the sewer still lingering, "however we could do both." He spotted several barrels near the corpse pile, likely being used to fuel up vehicles or maybe even being used to potentially burn the corpses. "We need to get to that weapon stockpile before we try anything with that battlewagon. But we need a distraction, I think these barrels could do the trick."
"Yeah?" Rook sheathed his knife disappointedly, "If you're thinking about using them then I hate to tell you that we're on a flat surface, we'd need one hell of a push to get them remotely close to any Orks. That is if you're thinking about making them blow up like I think you are."
"We can use the bodies. They may be dead, but they are still of use to the Emperor and I have to thank Him for providing us with a slope we can use." his mouth exuded benedictions in hopes that such sweet reverence would cleanse his pallet of the waste in the sewer, "If we get the barrels to the top of this pile then we can put holes in them, roll them down, and light the fuel that pours from them."
"Then we make for the stockpile just before the flames catch up with the barrels and then boom. The Orks stay busy checking out the pretty red flowers and we get our hands on some good weapons. Orks love things that go boom, we'll probably find some good stuff in there.". Rook let a devilish grin grace his visage.
"And I do believe I can make out a crawlspace under that building, probably housed some kind of air flow for the building, if we can come up inside the building from the back we could shoot our way out and then work on commandeering that battlewagon and repurpose it for His divine will.". Nathanial then snuck his way over to some of the suspected fuel barrels, the sick, sweet-tinged reek of the containers indicated they were used to store fuel and not other random liquids the Orks may be fond of. He tapped on some of the barrels to determine how full they were and selected the two fullest ones he could reach without raising suspicion.
The two soldiers of the Empire rolled the barrels up the corpse pile, difficult work considering some bodies were less rigid in their decayed state and allowed the two to sink in slightly amongst the fallen. Yet through dedication and will the fuel had made it to the top, knives flashed as they we drawn and with a metallic thunk they were embedded into the barrels.
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Post by Darko on Jul 25, 2016 22:56:05 GMT
The pair of heavy barrels began to leak a foul-smelling liquid, although it was most likely incredibly high-grade as per tbe standard for all local production on the forge world. With a grunt, Rook shoved his barrel as Nathaniel shoved his, and they tumbled downward with rapidly increasing speed. The orks took several seconds to even register something was happening, with only one or two even turning their bestial heads. Rook held his lascarbine in a steady grip, took aim, and pulled the trigger. A single laser ignited the trail of fuel, and then the other. A few seconds later there was a large explosion, accompanied by a second one almost instantaneously that only increased the resulting fireball. All of the orks stopped what they were doing and rushed in the direction of the conflagration. The Big Mek made an appearance, stomping toward the flames before he began screaming insults and angry questions at his underlings.
By that point, Rook and Yorck were already inside the bombed out building, getting onto their feet after crawling in from under an old air vent that had been widened from damage. Inside, they found more than they could have hoped for. Lasguns, heavy stubbers and all sorts inbetween were carelessly strewn around the room both on tables and the floor. However, a few items stood out. Rook was impressed enough by the fact that there were even a few plasma guns, meltaguns and even heavier equipment such as a lascannon. However, Yorck spied even more precious relics that his time in the Inquisition had made him familiar with - from a distance. He reverently retrieved a macrostubber and a gamma pistol from the floor, along with traces of ammunition for each that had been carelessly scattered. In one corner, a heavy and extremely ornate thunder hammer rested upside down, but appeared undamaged. Sticking out from underneath a pile of autoguns was a battered but workable needle rifle with a large scope attachment. Next to it was an inactive refractor field generator of dubious functionality, and a slender power knife lacking a sheathe.
"By the Emperor, I think we've died and ascended to the Golden Throne," mused Yorck.
"Yeah," agreed Rook. "Except we've gotten lost and found the Emperor's holy armory."
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Post by halonachos on Jul 26, 2016 0:03:45 GMT
"I see a few weapons we cannot leave here, it would be almost damning to do so." Nathanial said as he traced a finger alongside the thunderhammer, stopping to fondle the details engraved into the magnificent weapon. "I hate to say that we cannot take all of this with us, however this hammer, the needler, and the power knife do need to come with us. The refractor field as well, if it works then it's even better. I suggest a meltagun for yourself due to the fact that we do not need to press our luck further with an unstable weapon." he hoisted the thunderhammer and felt the weight protest it's removal from the ground by someone other than it's rightful owner. "Our sniper could enjoy the needler if she has been so inclined as to remain alive and I'm sure the inquisitor will relieve me of one of the weapons I am carrying... it's as if the Emperor planned us to find this cache to aid us in our mission. Surely your faith must be bolstered by this event."
His attention then turned to the lascannon, "That's our answer to the Mek."
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Post by Lord Harrab on Jul 26, 2016 12:41:54 GMT
Typical. In a cluttered and debris laden environment and the fury of battle around her, it had been an ork pilot that had final spotted her, camo-cloak be dammed. The Emperor had her mother's sense of humor it seemed. Slowly, as if time had slowed to that of pouring treacle, she swung out from behind her cover as huge rounds reduced it to powder, raised her aim and rifle skyward and locked eyes with the pilot even now diving down at her. She breathed out. Held it, and Squeezed. The world became just the tow of them. Human and Xenos, linked in a tiny circle of her scope and his cross-hairs, united in a single purpose, the death of the other Crack.the incoming fire stopped, the fighter bomber started to spin and tumble. Time returned in and rush, and Balalaika turned and rand like Horus himself was on the ledge behind her, with no time to slow and turn into the alley where she had climbed up, she simply jumped across the gap with rifle held in one hand, misjudged the distance, hit the opposite ledge with her stomach. lost her grip with a shouted curse, fell down a floor to a fire escape with began to lose its tedious grip to the wall and landed almost on top of the Lord General. rifle held protectively to her chest even as the impact of her arrival momentarily broke through the gunfire and orkish shouts. No, not her Mother, Grandmother had had humor like this. Black and twisted like the Imperial Guard regulations and just as fond of bullshit. Winded, bruised and thoroughly sick of the day's events, she lay there for a few seconds, while she tried to determine how many of her ribs felt like they were on fire, then forced herself to her feet and checked over her rifle, a few scuff marks and scratches, but scope, firing chamber and barrel looked fine to her dazed eyes. Better not risk it, the old girl had done enough miracles today. The sniper slung the long las over her back and pulled out her sidearm, noticed her hat under some debris from the fall, and joined the Lord General at his cover after replacing it on her head. she couldn't see the Inquisition or the woman she had gone to rescue, but ignoring the senior officer beside her like he was one of the statues she had recently been hiding behind, she coughed a few times and shouted for the bossy woman to hear, pulling a blue tabbed grenade from her belt as she did so with her free hand. "If you are Alive, we need to move! i can cover you with smoke!"
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Post by Darko on Jul 26, 2016 20:39:01 GMT
As the fire continued to burn, captivating the attention of the confused orks, the big mek began to gaze around suspiciously.
With a scowl he bellowed, "WAAAGH!"
All of the gathered orks, just over twenty, turned their attention back to him. "Listen 'ere you dumb gitz, dis is some 'oomie trick! Go check on da gubbinz while I fix da wagon so we'z can join da fight!"
"You got it, boss," one of the greenskin's answered, raising a crude sword and pistol. "C'mon boyz, dere's 'oomies ta kill!"
Lord-General Bastille looked at Balalaika as she recovered from her fall and readied a smoke grenade, calling out to the woman who had summarily executed the wounded Tech Priest scant moments ago.
"Are you alright, trooper?" He asked, his voice surprisingly gruff with the hint of a low gothic accent not completely erased by years of meetings with noble-born officers.
Before the Valhallan sniper could answer, a metallic noise behind them drew their attention. A towering wall of leathery green muscle hauled itself out of the manhole with an elaborate and unstable energy weapon held in its brutish hands. Another pair of green hands appeared at the top of the manhole, indicating more Flash Gitz climbing to the surface.
"Orks is da biggest, AND da strongest! Waaaaaaagh!" Screamed the ork as its weapon began to audibly charge, baleful emerald light coruscating at the end of the barrel.
General Bastille immediately raised his stolen ork rifle and pressed down on the trigger, expecting it to unleash a hail of bullets. Instead, nothing happened, as the crude weapon had jammed.
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Post by Warork on Jul 27, 2016 1:04:08 GMT
Rook was a one point eight meter, hundred kilo wide assortment of blood, guts, and thanks to the recent dip in a sewer system, shit and piss as well. He could hardly inhale without the overpowering stench of human waste almost overpowering his senses. He hadn't eaten, slept, or used the latrine in two days and hadn't seen a shower in a week. He ached from a thousand cuts and bruises and sores underneath his soiled fatigues and battered armor and his mouth tasted of ammonia and sulfur. As he crawled through the air vent he was so tired that he couldn't say what was powering his limbs any more...desperation perhaps. Nothing but the blind, instinctual will to survive. He crawled through the dirt, feeling every grain of it grind further into his skin, every shard of glass poke and prod him as he pulled his belly across the ground. There in the shadow of that ruined building surrounded by orks Rook gritted his teeth as he felt his will slowly ebbing away from him. What was the point? If they made it out of this building then they'd just have to make out of another and another and another...How could anyone expect to surmount those odds? What was the point in fighting against the inevitable?
As he pulled himself to his feet slowly, agonizingly, with the fresh images of wading through a pile of fresh and not so fresh corpses of his fellow humans in his mind Rook could hear a quiet voice in his mind ask "Where is your Emperor now?"
He went to spit but the sight in front of him made his mouth go dry in surprise...a whole room full of...full of...
Hope.
He numbly heard Yorck say something about having ascended to the Emperor's side...and despite himself Rook was tempted to agree with him. The stormtrooper continued to yammer on about duty and faith and the like but not all the mindless drivel in the galaxy could make Rook frown at this moment. He stood next to a table loaded down with more firepower than he'd seen in many a day and passed one grimy hand over its contents...just to make sure that this was real and not some sort of desperation fueled mirage. Mere seconds ago he had been dreading the idea of fighting the orks outside with a sharpened piece of metal and now...
"It's as if the Emperor planned us to find this cache to aid us in our mission."
The two guardsmen caught each others' eyes for a moment and Rook's own gaze, usually so full of snark and cynicism was now full of wonder. After a moment, the stormtrooper indicated the large outline of the lascannon and Rook snorted.
"The Emperor protects." He said dutifully and found, surprisingly, that he meant it. "So lets not disappoint him, eh?"
The two guardsmen grabbed as much ordnance as either of them could, their selections quick and nimble from years understanding what weapon was needed for what job. Rook himself grabbed a replacement for his old lascarbine, one that wasn't nearly as gunked up as the one he'd swam through sewer pipes with. A meltagun replaced his old flamer and he was sure to grab the power knife, replacing his own in sheath on his belt.
As he was stocking up on ammo and grenades alongside his comrade there came a noise from outside, one that haunted Rook's dreams every night...
"WAAAAGH!"
The two guardsmen looked at each other for the second time in a few minutes and without saying a word scrambled over to the side of the building where the roar had come from. There they found a room with a couple large windows letting them see out into the vehicle yard beyond where it looked like the Big Mek was barking orders to his subordinates. Rook hefted the lascannon with a grunt onto the windowsill and propped it up with his shoulder, gripping its handles and putting his eye to its scope.
"If we can kill these bastards we can load the rest of these goodies on that battlewagon and use it to find the rest of our friends...if they're still alive." He paused, understanding that was a very real possibility. With one finger he flipped the arming switch on the lascannon's batter and listened to the whine of its machinations as they started to power up. Through the weapon's scope he lined the crosshairs upon the center mass of the largest target within the ork group.
"Hope you're ready." He said to Yorck, "because its about to get noisy again."
Rook was ready. It seemed like Emperor really was looking after them both...but just to be sure, he prayed
Great God-Emperor
Watch over your servant
and bestow on him the skill and patience
To time the moment
And make the kill.
Rook took one moment breathe after his prayer was over, the indicator in his scope turning green to tell him that the weapon was primed. He squeezed the trigger and a glorious light from the weapon's muzzle blinded him. When the afterimages had finally left his eyes, he could see that the orks near the Mek had thrown themselves flat and were staggering to their feet. The Mek was nowhere to be found unless you counted smoking pair of boots and the remains of a power klaw. All that remained to betray his passing was the gentle cloud of steam rising from the lascannon's business end.
"Why doesn't everyone have one of these?" Rook mumbled to himself as he lowered the recharging weapon and readied another.
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Post by halonachos on Jul 27, 2016 12:55:09 GMT
"You foul xenos should consider it an honor to be felled by such weaponry!" Nathanial shouted as he fired the gamma pistol at the closest targets, the smell of burning ozone soon became overpowered by the stench of rapidly incinerating Ork. It was not a delightful smell, but it meant sure victory. He slowly pressed the attack as another magnificent bolt of light shot from another cannon, turning yet another foe into ash. It was a shame that the lasgun lacked even half the power of the lascannon, yet many guardsman had been able to use the weapon to some effect.
He had heard that the gamma pistol could do amazing things if one had shown proper devotion to the machine spirits, Nathanial was just glad that it was working. Each shot dwindled his already miniscule amount of precious ammo for the amazing contraption, he had to make sure each counted. Then he had to make sure that they could load the equipment onto the Ork battlewagon and hurry to find the source of the Orks' reason for their sortie. If it was the other two then the black box was in dire need of rescue and the stormtrooper was determined to deliver it to a secure destination.
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coolyo294
Iconic
Slayer of Demons
Posts: 1,169
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Post by coolyo294 on Jul 30, 2016 3:46:15 GMT
Quin was just a few steps away now, dazed and confused in the open. Any second a stray bullet could hit her, or a random Ork could take notice and chop her down. That was intolerable. She was the reason they were in this mess and Korina needed to at least recover her body so it could be properly disposed of, or else all their effort would have been for naught. Suddenly an Ork stepped in her path, bellowing loudly in its guttural tongue as it flailed a brutal axe. Korina deftly sidestepped its clumsy swipe and bisected its arm at the elbow before chopping out its leg with a spinning swipe. It toppled to the ground cursing and yelling, before the Interrogator plunged her sword through its heart and silenced it.
The acolyte was in reach now. Korina roughly grabbed her arm, jerking her out of her concussed reverie.
"Oh, hello Korina! Lovely to see you here!" Quin said cheerily. She had always been an airheaded dunce, and now she was clearly unaware of her surroundings. Clearly the Ork torturer had done a number on her mental state. Once they were safe Korina would have to knock some sense back into her.
Korina didn't bother to respond. Instead she yanked the acolyte towards the alley where the sniper and the general were. Smoke began to billow out of it and she heard the sniper yelling, shortly followed by more Orkish voices. She cursed. That avenue of escape was now cut off. Ducking into the smoke she tapped Balalaika on the shoulder.
"Come on, this way!" She yelled pointing at an alley across the way. "We'll use the smoke for cover and escape through there!"
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Post by Lord Harrab on Jul 30, 2016 12:21:37 GMT
Reacting quickly to this new unpleasant development, Balalaika improvised, the smoke grenade intended for the street went into the Flash Gitz' face with a satisfying thud before it started to spew out thick grey smoke. Then she grabbed the Lord General and pulled him back just as the Inquisition re-joined them. "Come on, this way!" She yelled pointing at an alley across the way. "We'll use the smoke for cover and escape through there!" The sniper needed no encouraging, a blast of sickly green energy shot out of the smoke and tore a deep gouge into the rubble strewn ground beside her foot, thrust her las pistol into the general's hand, and unslung her rifle for the run across this warzone, deserving of rest as the rifle doubtless was, she would trust no other weapon to help her in this mad dash. Then she was moving in a low trencher's run, head and shoulders slumped as bullets and energy blasts flashed around her, her rifle coming to shoulder and discharging only on those green skins that were in their path or looked like a major threat, no time to properly aim, these were hurried suppression shots, she could not be certain of any clean kills and besides her focus was on the welcoming solid cover of the other alleyway so close yet so far away. She spared a thought for the corporal with the flamer who had presumably been caught down the tunnel and hoped that he had least died well. that's all a Guardsman could hope for. then she was firing and moving, firing and moving, from cover to cover to cover, not staying in place for more than a few seconds the lighter crack of the general's borrowed pistol and the throatier roar of the Inquisition's bolter adding to her own weapon as the outnumbered imperials ran for their lives
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Post by halonachos on Jul 30, 2016 15:03:32 GMT
As much as he was certain Rook wanted to say, Nathanial realized that they couldn't stay there alive much longer. "We need to leave, I'm thinking you lay down as much fire as you can while I work on an exit." he looked around the room and gathered a few loose grenades, he continued to scan his surroundings and realized that with what they had they couldn't use the vent as an exit. In fact they were pretty well cornered and they wouldn't be able to shoot their way out as they had originally planned. As the lascannon fired the room shook and Yorck noticed a piece of rockcrete fall to the floor and crack, then the hammer on his back seemed to tug on his shoulder as if to get his attention.
"Okay Rook," the stormtrooper got close to the trooper so that he could be heard over the freem of the lascannon and the yelling of the Orks. "I'm going to toss these grenades at the Orks and then smash a hole in that back wall with this hammer, you keep firing and I'll call for you to make your exit. When you get out make for the battlewagon and get on it's gun, we can use that to finish them off and I'll try to take out a support beam on my way out." Nathanial tossed the grenades at the Orks and pulled the cumbersome hammer off of his back and slammed it into the wall with all the force he could muster. He eyed the needler and quickly slung it over his shoulder, he felt like a one man army with so much weaponry stowed on his person, two holstered pistols, a thunderhammer, and a needler now in his possession. It was still a shame he had to leave so much behind.
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