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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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[ERROR] No.46575971 [Reply] [Original] [4plebs] [archived.moe]

So no shit, there we were, delivering the live Zoanthrope we'd hauled halfway across the galaxy, when instead of thanking us for our hard work and offering to buy us all a beer, the Inquisitor running the facility placed us under arrest. There ain't no fucking justice.

We all stood there, paralyzed, at the news that our boss, Inquisitor Oak, had been branded a Rogue, a traitor to the Inquisition. The mere fact that we were his subordinates damned us in the eyes of the Inquisition, and to make matters even worse, we were apparently on the hook for just about everything we'd done since the start of our mission, as well as few things that we hadn't. Not that it really mattered what we had or hadn't done, since the motto of the Inquisitorial courts is: "A plea of innocence is guilty of wasting our time."

It slowly dawned on each of us that unless something amazingly unexpected happened, our future would consist of a quick trial and execution, if we were lucky that is. If we were unlucky, it'd be a long trial and a longer execution. Perhaps inevitably, Nubby was the first one to come to grips with the situation, and before the Inquisitor had even finished telling his two Deathwatch Space Marine bodyguards to kill us if we attempted to do anything, the little trooper was volunteering to testify against Oak in exchange for clemency, and also possibly a small cash payment.

The Inquisitor responded to this outburst by briefly turning his unnervingly steady gaze to the cretinous little trooper, who suddenly forgot how to speak mid-sellout. After a few vague "uh"-ing sounds, Nubby sat down, gripping his head with one hand and making rude gestures at the Inquisitor with the other.

>> No.46575985

Aw yiss!

>> No.46576003


>> No.46576009

Yes. Yes. Yes.

>> No.46576022

The wait is over! Praise be to the AGP!

>> No.46576027

Here comes the guardsmen train!

>> No.46576033

The Emperor provides!

>> No.46576043

Time for comfy.

>> No.46576045

Time to crack open a beer, this gun be good.

>> No.46576056


>> No.46576057


>> No.46576059

>> No.46576063

I've waited a log time for this.

>> No.46576087

This. So much this. Someone should totally make a demotivational of that.

>> No.46576091

Will this be the last installment?

I hope not.

>> No.46576094

No matter how long, the wait is always worth it.

>> No.46576096


The Inquisitor dropped Nubby from his attention and finished the Marines' orders with an apology for the indignity of the assignment and a promise to call an extra team down to properly arrest us when his ship returned in a few hours. Then, almost as an afterthought, he warned them that "the little one is a psyker, and will need to put in one of the cells". Both the Marines turned their bolters on Nubby and began advancing.

There were a bit of confusion as Nubby, who was still incapable of speaking, attempted to hide behind the rest of us. Sarge, seeing an opportunity, grabbed the undersized trooper by his collar and proffered him to the advancing Marines while Aimy and Doc moved in front of Fumbles. Unfortunately, this brilliant plan was spoiled by the fact that the Inquisitor wasn't a gullible idiot.

When the Marines returned with Nubby suspended by one augmetic leg, the Inquisitor let out little sigh of annoyance (which was the most emotion we'd seen from him yet) and told the marines to stop embarrassing themselves and collect "the one in the psyker-coat". When the marines returned with Doc, who'd hurriedly put on Fumbles' coat, the Inquisitor let out another sigh, and made a gesture. There was a little yelp from the back of our group as an invisible force yanked Fumbles into the air and began levitating him across the landing pad. Without another word to us or the Deathwatch marines, the Inquisitor followed our whimpering psyker into the large elevator where his non-superhuman flunkies were waiting with the Daemonthrope.

>> No.46576097

Aw shit nigga, reporting in.

You are getting somewhat popular outside /tg/, worrying, but I guess it's nice for you. Proceed.

>> No.46576146

Fuck yes

>> No.46576162

two psykers and the Deamonthrope in an elevator... This can only end well.

>> No.46576198

nubby the psyker? might explain how he's able to steal so much shit and nobody notice

>> No.46576206

Oh fuck. A competent Inquisitor...

>> No.46576227

their worst threat yet

>> No.46576233

Wonder what, or who else they have in those cells.

>> No.46576254

That poor inquisitor.

Godspeed, Shoggy. Godspeed.

>> No.46576256

Caught it live. Annoyingly I need sleep before I finish the whole thing. But I can read the intro.

>> No.46576274

>Competent Inquisitor

>> No.46576282

You always start these off when I'm at work, Shoggy... now I gotta wait to get comfy

>> No.46576298

inb4 when this is all cleared up they end up under him

>> No.46576322

This is the imperium.
More like, "this is all cleared up, and they're tried for attempting to betray Oak instead"

>> No.46576338

He is one of six competent Inquisitors in the segmentum. They're only sent out when shit gets serious.

>> No.46576340


The elevator's doors slid shut behind Fumbles and the Inquisitor with an ominous boom, leaving our landing party alone on the pad with the two Deathwatch marines. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Aimy pointed out that the Inquisitor was a colossal asshole. One of the Marines responded with a vaguely-agreeable grunt, earning him an angry look from his partner (all looks are angry in Power Armor).

The pissier of the two marines tossed Doc in our general direction, and then both of them trained their weapons on our little group and settled into comfortable guard stances. All around the pad, the AA guns that defended the facility came to life, and turned to rest on our shuttle well.

We may not have been cuffed, placed in cells, or even properly disarmed yet, but it all-in-all, it was VERY clear that we wouldn't be going anywhere.

Unless someone did something suicidally stupid that is…

Hopefully, it wouldn't have to be us.

>The All Guardsmen Party and the [REDACTED] Conspiracy

>> No.46576343

Cut that out.

>> No.46576365

So dead.

>> No.46576369

Best birthday present

>> No.46576374

And here I was, checking /tg/ on a whim whilst I study for finals. Looks like I'm going to be even less productive than I thought.

>> No.46576393


>> No.46576397

Happy birthday, anon. :3

>> No.46576405


>> No.46576517


WARPFIRE! Dark fire! This fire in my skin!
Slaaneshi desire, is turning me~to~SIN!

>> No.46576532

That's some heresy there.

>> No.46576575


>> No.46576582

Shoggy you wonderful bastard

>> No.46576585

>Quick note as we get started here

Sorry for being so slow, I'll spare you any excuses (but I have a LOT of them, I swear!)

Sadly this won't be the whole chapter, and I can't quite be sure it'll be the entire first half of it, but I didn't want to delay any more. I may wind up continuing this tomorrow, or if worse comes to worse, next week.

>Archive linky:


>I'm proofing and grabbing pics on the fly here, but I'll try to keep things moving. (Really, I will)

>Criticism and Questions are always welcome.

>Ol' Bill is watching you masturbate.

>> No.46576626

Whelp! I caught a All Guardsman thread live?


>> No.46576654

Ol' Bill is a perv.

>> No.46576666

Aww hell yes!

>> No.46576700

Here they come...

>Not whole
Well, I can't say I blame you, life happens and all, but dammit. Still worth it.

>> No.46576705

is that a power wrench i see in Old Bill's Hand?

>> No.46576733

I wonder how long it will take for twitch to rig up the 50 tonnes of explosives nubby stole while the deathwatch guys weren't looking

>> No.46576742

I'm not one of "them"

>> No.46576754

>mfw I caught it live

I can't believe how much I look forward to these. I've been checking the googledocs page for almost 2 months now. I don't think there's any show I ever followed with this level of interest. Keep doing god's work.

>> No.46576760

Its not my fault! I'm not to BLAM, it is the wicked witch, lets put her to the flame!

>> No.46576787

mfw the gang is gonna wiggle its ass outta yet another certain defeat

>> No.46576810

About 20 posts.

>> No.46576816

Unpainted but too excited since I caught the thread live, have to post Spot 2.0

>> No.46576829

caught it live

>> No.46576837

Whelp The plan appears to be on fire. But it could be worse

>> No.46576848


So, to summarize our situation: we were sweating through our fancy, but completely unarmored uniforms, on a landing pad, while two bolter-armed Deathwatch Space Marines kept us covered and watched our every movement like genetically engineered super-hawks.

Since Fumbles was off enjoying the hospitality of the creepily-monotone Inquisitor, our landing party consisted of all us guardsmen, the three adepts, and a very-unhappy Jim. Armament wise, none of us except Twitch and Nubby, who had a few party favors crammed into their pockets, were armed with more than our las-pistols. We hadn't just left our pulse-weapons behind mind you, we'd just decided to leave them in the shuttle, where their techno-heretical nature wouldn't cause any problems if the Inquisitor running facility had a rod up his ass. In retrospect we might've underestimated the size of the hypothetical rod.

Our weapon-filled shuttle was parked a dozen meters away from where the Space Marines had corralled us. Aside from our cache of weapons, it was equipped with a multi-laser turret which only Jim knew how to actually use, enough armor to hold off bolter-fire (if the Marines made sure to miss the half-assedly-patched brightlance holes), and MAYBE enough fuel to get us back into orbit. Oh, and it also had Sergeant Gravis' stasis unit, but we didn't really see that as tactically significant.

The facility we were on top of was your standard secret mountain base affair. You know, a landing pad and a bit of rooftop sticking out of a dangerously steep mountainside, with emperor-knows how much stuff hidden underground. Its only real distinguishing features, as far as we were concerned at least, were the local climate, which was blisteringly hot despite the altitude, and the massive ring of anti-air turrets surrounding the landing pad. We weren't quite sure who was controlling said turrets or what their reaction time was like, but none of us felt like doing any experiments to figure that out.

>> No.46576852

Oh we live now! And for once I don't have work.

>> No.46576855

3 words: Acetone vapor bath. Will clear up the lines on a 3d print.

>> No.46576862

Love you Shoggy!

>> No.46576896

Man I only read the first 3 or 4 of these. So much catching up to do! Thanks for the stories Shoggy.

>> No.46576927

Was gonna have a fap over on /gif/ but this gem was on the front page in the popular section........ I AM CONFLICTED WHY ARE YOU A CRUEL MASTER, GOD!?!?! Regardless my body is totally ready for this

>> No.46576971

The emperors hammer or slannesh gifs. Your choice

>> No.46577032

But it's PLA bruh

>> No.46577059


>> No.46577113


After our feeble plan to hold onto Fumbles had fallen apart and we'd spent a few minutes stewing in our own juices on the landing pad, the true shittyness of situation began to really sink in.

Aimy started cursing under her breath, and steadily increased the volume until she was ranting like a street-corner preacher. Nubby propped his over-sized coat up as a sunshade (no poles were used, the thing was actually filthy enough to stand up on its own, and that was after it'd been washed), and grumpily sat under it, waiting for his voice to return and egging Aimy on as best he could with grunts and gestures. Sarge just stood stock-still, muttering darkly to himself and ignoring everyone else, even when Doc tried to ask him for help subduing Twitch, who'd started pacing in circles and ranting about how "he'd known it all along" and "they were ALL in on it".

Really, Tink and Doc were the ones who took it best. After an initial freakout, the medic took refuge in the familiar, if difficult, task of tranquing Twitch before he did anything explodey. Tink spent a few minutes smugly pointing out that, while we had been arrested by the Inquisition, it HADN'T been for tech-heresy, and therefore everyone owed him an apology. He eventually realized no-one was listening and decided to sit down and play with his drone-controller instead. There was a tense moment as he drew the controller from his tac-belt, but the Marines eventually accepted Tink's blatant lie about it just being a data-slate, and didn't shoot him.

As for the rest of the party: Jim sank down into a little puddle of misery, chattering to himself in binary and rocking back and forth, and the adepts all gathered into a little huddle. After a few minutes of serious discussion, the old Diplomacy Adept turned to the rest of us, cleared his throat until we grudging payed attention, and asked us whether we thought Oak had actually turned traitor.

He seemed surprised by how little we cared.

>> No.46577124

don't leave it in long then.

>> No.46577209

>He seemed surprised by how little we cared.

>> No.46577232

>Diplomat adept: so do you think oak has gone traitor? If not we should help him
>agp: we don't give a fuck can you help us get out of this burning wreck before we go into the other one

>> No.46577255

Whatever can get me harder than this thread is currently doing

>> No.46577262


I mean, it's not like we thought the question of whether or not our boss was a heretical mastermind that'd been destroying the Inquisition from within wasn't important… We just didn't see how it was relevant to our current situation.

>A: Oak was a heretic. In which case the Inquisition would imprison, torture, and slowly kill us.
>B: Oak wasn't a heretic, but someone had framed him as one. In which case the the Inquisition would probably imprison, torture, and slowly kill us, though they might apologize to Oak about it afterwards if everything was ever sorted out.
>C: Oak wasn't a heretic, and the monotone Inquisitor was lying about the Inquisition ordering his arrest as part of some sort of conspiracy. In which case a bunch of political backstabbers or a shadowy cabal of heretics would imprison, torture, and slowly kill us.

I'm sure you can see the common theme here.

As far as we were concerned the question of our Inquisitor's moral status was academic, and was therefore something that could be left to the academics while we focused on more important issues. Specifically, how we were going to avoid being imprisoned, tortured, and slowly killed.

The old Diplomat got a little huffy with us, and said some very hurtful things about our attention spans and how our intellectual capabilities compared to those of a bunch of a drunken Orks. Eventually though, he calmed down and announced his and the other adepts' certainty that Oak was innocent. Sarge, who was in just about the worst mood any of us had seen him in, responded with bitter sarcasm, which the Diplomat returned with interest. The situation had all the makings of a really good argument, and lacking anything better to do we all gathered 'round to watch the fireworks, but then Tink spoiled everything by asking whether we should tell the Inquisitor everything about the "Zoanthrope" before he finished taking it out of the stasis unit.

>> No.46577263

>adept's faces when.

>> No.46577331

Fairly sure acetone doesn't have the same effect on PLA as ABS. Have heard of other chemicals that have a similar effect though. Maybe it's time to get some

>> No.46577336

Oh God...

Release the Zoanthrope.

>> No.46577368


>> No.46577438

Oh fuck. This is bad i mean this is Really fucking BAD

>ghost nids happen
>inqusitor dies
>everybody thinks fumbles did it or something because zoo throes don't do that shit
>yay!! More heresy allegations!!

>> No.46577465

Dammit autocorrect!

>> No.46577536


Well, you better believe that caught everyone's attention, including the two Deathwatch Marines, who could apparently hear everything we were saying. The less-pissy of the two Marines, whose only distinguishing feature was a yellow-edged pauldron with a cartoon heart on it, took a few steps towards us, this paused when he realised his companion wasn't moving. The other space marine, who sported a sort of pointy black cross on a white background, just shook his head, and Heart-Marine sheepishly shuffled back to his guard position as we all huddled around Tink's drone-controller.

Spot the Wonder Drone had been incorporated into the Daemonthrope's containment unit when we'd made the thing mobile; partially because the drone was as good a central controller for the various systems as anything else we had on hand, but mostly because Fio had REALLY wanted to keep the hunk of wraithbone which suppressed the lion's share of the Daemonthrope's power. The wraithbone suppressor had been positioned on the very top of the Daemonthope's pallet, with all its cables and stuff hanging down over the outside of the stasis unit, where they conveniently hid the Daemonthrope's smoky wings from anyone who didn't know to look for them. Spot had then been encased in its oversized servo-skull disguise and placed on top of the suppressor, where the drone could easily lift the whole thing off and bring it back with us after the Inquisition had set up whatever they used to contain uppity daemonhosts.

Anyway, thanks to all this, we had a clear readout telling us that the Deamonthrope's pallet was about a hundred meters below us, and its containment measures were being deactivated by someone who probably didn't know that it held something a just little bit nastier than your average Zoanthrope.

The question was whether we should try to warn them, let them figure things out for themselves, or maybe help things along a little by pushing the big red button on Tink's drone controller.

>> No.46577571


>> No.46577610



>> No.46577640

HIT THE BUTTON!!!!!!!!!!

>> No.46577643

Red button in three...two...one...

>> No.46577645


>> No.46577876

>Actually here for this

>> No.46577905

>cartoon heart

>> No.46577915

I'm half expecting all this to be some sort of convoluted test set up by Oak.

>> No.46577929

This Inquisitor seems like he has his head on straight. I'm sure he'll be able to handle a SURPRISE DAEMONTHROPE!

>> No.46577940



>> No.46577948

That inquisitor is in for a good time.

>> No.46577960


The debate over what to do about the Deamonthrope was a very awkward one. I mean, you can't just say stuff like "I think we should use this device right here to unleash the daemonhost we brought with us, and then escape in the resulting confusion" in front of a pair of Deathwatch Space Marines. It'd be rude. Also, they'd shoot us. So we had to be careful not to say anything about the daemon, or Spot, or escaping, or anything even remotely related to what was going on really.

Now, if we'd been proper Inquisitorial agents, we'd have used witty metaphors and ironic codewords, possibly leaving the Marines with the impression that we were merely planning a fancy dress party or something. Unfortunately we were just a bunch of guardsmen, and had to make do with grunts, shrugs, expletives, and a wide array of rude gestures. Judging by the looks on Jim and the Adepts' faces we wound up looking like a bunch of Ogryns trying to argue philosophy, but it honestly worked pretty well. Who knows what the Marines thought, maybe that we'd all suffered strokes or something.

Anyway, skipping over a whole lot of nigh-incomprehensible arguing, we eventually decided that the odds of us surviving the Daemonthrope breaking loose were even worse than what we'd get in an Inquisitorial trial. Unless, that is, the bug only broke part-way out and they pinned smuggling a Daemonhost into an Inquisitorial facility on us along with everything else. Put together, it was enough to convince Sarge that our best option was to fess up to the Daemonthrope's true nature, and hope we got bonus points for saving whichever idiot was in the process of releasing it.

That decided, Sarge stood up, walked towards the Marines until they ordered him to stop or be shot full of holes, told them that Zoanthrope we'd delivered had been possessed by a Daemon, and asked them to warn the Inquisitor not to mess with its containment.

Heart-Marine called him a liar and Grumpy-Marine called him a heretic.

>> No.46577967

> inquisitorial reactions when the Daemonthrope is released

>> No.46578008

Please tell me someone made the joke of grunts grunting

>> No.46578063

Well, he tried.

>> No.46578084


Grunts grunting is no matter to be grunty about.

>> No.46578096

gold star for trying, nothing you can do now but sit and wait

>> No.46578107


Sarge made three more attempts to convince the Deathwatch Marines, but the closest he got to success was briefly arguing with Heart-Marine over whether or not a Tyranid could be possessed by a Daemon. That ended with the Marine calling Sarge an idiot for trying to lie about Tyranid biology to a someone who'd fought them for three decades, and Sarge giving up the argument in disgust. After that failure, and operating in pure desperation at this point, our fearless leader decided to see if just offering the raw facts to the Marines would work. He called Tink over to show them the readouts from the Daemonthrope pallet. This resulted in the Space Marines calling the Inquisitor to tell him we had some sort of remote connection to the pallet, and Spot's signal being jammed.

The whole time this was going on, the Diplomacy Adept just stood there, shaking his head and running an increasingly bitter play-by-play critique under his breath. When it finally ended with Sarge and Tink both vowing to just stand there and laugh while daemonic bugs killed the Marines, the old Diplomat walked out to Sarge and congratulated him on having learned absolutely nothing during his month of diplomatic tutoring sessions. Sarge suggested that the Adept go talk to thee Marines himself if he was so smart, and got told he should have thought of that BEFORE cramming his foot so far into his mouth that he'd started shitting toes. After the shocked pause that remark triggered, Doc asked if he could have a turn. Both Sarge and Diplomacy Adept told him they didn't care anymore.

>> No.46578108

Inb4 inqusitor rulers saves the day

>> No.46578112

Now I have the overwhelming urg to kitbash a bunch of Ogryns in Greek robes.

>> No.46578113

I have that T-shirt, it's great

>> No.46578130

Rupert damn autocorrect

>> No.46578220

Can't believe I caught a live one...Emperor be praised!

>> No.46578229

I can't open any of the links on that page.

>> No.46578232

>he should have thought of that BEFORE cramming his foot so far into his mouth that he'd started shitting toes

>> No.46578235

Typos aside what will happen when the rupert realises this shits going on?

>> No.46578246


>> No.46578269

Correction: I cannot open any of the links before "Interlude: Dewarp"

>> No.46578283


So while Sarge and the old Diplomat glared at eachother, and the rest of us began laying plans for taking advantage of the inevitable Daemonthrope escape, Doc walked over to the two Marines and tried to convince them that we totally weren't heretics.

Between the fact that Doc was just about the opposite of a confident and persuasive speaker, and the Deathwatch Marines being a pair of three meter tall killing machines with glowing red eyes and permanent expressions of angry disapproval, the whole thing was rather comically pathetic. Our medic stammered and nervously giggled his way through an explanation of how we had no idea what was going on with our Inquisitor or this facility. We'd just been following what had, at the time, been a perfectly legitimate Inquisitorial order like a bunch of good little guardsmen, and then our Astropath had exploded, and every time we'd tried to get a new one people attacked us, and we'd really had no other option aside from following our original orders, and so on… The whole time both of the Marines just stared at him, as if eyeing a small, furiously yapping dog and debating whether to laugh at it or punt it over the horizon

Doc finally began to run out of steam when he got to the part with the space station, because there was no denying we'd shot, exploded, and MELTED a bunch of loyal Imperial subjects, which is something that's sort of hard to wave off as "just an accident". Even if it totally was. Also, there was just no way to explain the whole thing with the Warp Fungus without sounding like either a liar or a madman. He stuttered to a stop, stared at the impassive Space Marines for a few seconds, and then in a burst of sudden confidence, announced that at least we DEFINITELY hadn't murdered any Space Marines. In fact, except for the one that'd gotten skewered by the Hive Tyrant, all of them were still alive, and he could prove it since Sergeant Gravis was currently in our shuttle.

>> No.46578307

Obviously he will demand a duel against the inquisitor who accused the AGP in order to restore their honor and freedom.

>> No.46578313

no words for how fucked you are

>> No.46578340


Dooooooooooooccccccccc. What are you doing???

He rolled a 100 didnt he.

>> No.46578345

>revealing what happened to gravis

Damn Doc... What are you doing?

>> No.46578351


How could they have forgotten about SGT. Gravis?

>> No.46578364

"We have one half of your comrade in our shuttle!"

>> No.46578373

Yes there is. It's just that only tzeetch nows what they are.speaking of witch I bet the agp just makes him laugh has ass of

>> No.46578382

Dios Mio I caught I live one!

>> No.46578398

Please let this end with a Gravis dreadnought!

>> No.46578407

Or a 1

>> No.46578427

1 is a crit success though.

>> No.46578437



>> No.46578439

God I want to play Dark Heresy so much.

>> No.46578442


>> No.46578444

i'm now imagining the chaos gods watching the party and laughing their asses off

>> No.46578450

>boxnaught chasing AGP


>> No.46578500


Upon hearing Doc's statement Heart-Marine rocked forwards a step, paused for a few seconds to have an inaudible argument with his partner, and then finally told the medic to show him Gravis. A minute later they came back out, collected the still-freaking-out Jim, and then wheeled Gravis' stasis unit out onto the landing pad. As the two Deathwatch marines huddled over the stasis-chamber and inspected what was left of its occupant, we felt a sudden surge of hope that we could convince them to at least keep the Inquisitor from releasing the Daemonthrope. Then Grumpy-Marine spun around, shoved his bolter in Doc's face, and asked why Gravis was imprisoned in a stasis field and what sort of heretical experiments had been planned for him in this facility. Doc didn't wet himself in terror, but it was a near thing.

Not being a good bullshitter, our medic-turned-diplomat fell back on the only thing he was certain of: the precise details of Gravis' injuries and subsequent treatments. The two Deathwatch Marines seemed rather taken aback by the sudden tide of completely incomprehensible medical jargon, and after a few more seconds of glowering they stepped back into their impassive guard positions. Doc, having no idea whether this meant they were listing or not, kept on babbling while the rest of us watched and grew more and more antsy. Luckily, before any of us ran out of patience and did something to screw everything up again, the third Deathwatch marine arrived.

This Marine was different from the other two. In addition to the colorful shoulder-badge (blue with a comet on it) his black armor was decorated with white bits, and he was carrying what even us uneducated guardsmen could recognize as Apothecary tools. He came out of the base's elevator at a dead sprint, skidded to a stop in front of Gravis' stasis unit, and began bellowing questions at Doc.

>> No.46578506


>> No.46578541


>> No.46578552

Doc's really getting the short end of the stick here

>> No.46578569

inb4 why is there a fucking daemon in a zoanthrope

>> No.46578584


I believe the proper term is being shafted

>> No.46578608



>> No.46578634


As Doc finished his explanation for the second time, the Apothecary turned to the other two Marines and the three of them began arguing. They were using their helmet comms, so we couldn't hear a word of it of course, but it was obviously a very heated argument, and since we had a lot on the line (and were bored) we decided to see if we couldn't listen in. Approximately half a second after Tink managed to get his drone-controller tuned to their comm frequency and had started working at "cracking it", all three Marines turned to face us and Jim sprinted over. The techpriest yanked Tin'ks controller away and suggested that, if we wanted to die, shooting ourselves would be a far more pleasant way to go than getting caught in a half-assed attempt at Aetheric Warfare. Tink eventually got his controller back, but only because Sarge promised not to let him use it anymore.

Anyway, the Space Marines resumed their argument after that little hiccup, and after another few minutes of agonizing wait (seriously, it'd been about twenty minutes since we'd received the warning about the Daemonthrope's containment being disabled), they apparently reached a decision. The Apothecary announced his intention to temporarily revive Gravis and obtain testimony from him. Doc asked how this was possible, Gravis' lungs being rather nonfunctional (see: cut in half) in addition to the whole being comatose thing. He was told to stop asking questions and be ready to assist as needed. Doc had few seconds to swell with pride at the thought of assisting an actual Apothecary in treatment, and was then nearly crushed as the Space Marine began unloading a hundred kilos of oversized medical equipment onto him.

Everything was laid out, Doc was sprayed with an astartes-grade disinfectant which didn't quite cause him to run screaming in unbearable pain, and the stasis unit was deactivated.

>> No.46578635

So we've got a Black Templar, a Lamenter, and a Marines Errent?

>> No.46578672


I believe those are the Deathwatch. Plus Gravis of the Scythes of the Emperor.

It's like a little Astartes convention down there.

>> No.46578694

Finally caught it live again.

>> No.46578699

Please stop

>> No.46578710


>> No.46578715


The first part of Gravis' revival went about how you'd expect a medical operation being carried out by a centuries-old superhuman to go. Afterwards Doc spent something like a MONTH talking about how great a surgeon the Apothecary was, how amazing all the little medical toys he'd used were, and what an honor it had been to be allowed to observe and assist in the operation. Even if all he'd been allowed to do was hold a few things (one of which he very-nearly dropped) and dispose of a few vials of bio-toxin (which, lacking a biohazard disposal bin, he just threw off the landing pad). Anyway, in a startlingly short amount of time Gravis had been injected, implanted, drained, and a dozen other medical things, and then the Apothecary deftly popped the torso-fied Space Marine out of the Power Armor which had kept him alive for so long.

I can't really say what we expected the next step of the process to be, perhaps something involving some sort of super-powered stimulants and "blink twice for yes" or something. In any case, we certainly hadn't expected the Apothecary to pull out a length of cable, jack one end into his helmet, and the other into one of those weird black sockets on Gravis' spine. After that there was a very anti-climatic two or three minutes of watching the Apothecary and Gravis doing nothing, and then the cable was detached, Doc was told to clean up and re-engage the stasis field, and the Apothecary went back to arguing with the other two Deathwatch Marines.

Once again, we stood around like a bunch of pissants, watching a conversation we couldn't hear, but at least it was more interesting to watch this time: if their last argument was heated, then this one was practically molten. The Marines were actually yelling loud enough for us to hear the occasional word through their helmets, there was a lot of gesturing going on, and the Heart-Marine seemed especially furious about something we REALLY hoped wasn't us.

>> No.46578717

i imagine the marines looking at the frozen look of horror on gravis' face miiiight have contributed to that decidion.

>> No.46578768

inb4 the Lamenter has ridiculously bad luck.

>> No.46578825


When the Marines' argument finally ended with Heart-Marine storming off towards the base's elevator and the Apothecary returning to pick up his medical gear, Doc decided to see if he was allowed to ask questions now. It turned out that either the Apothecary was a far friendlier Space Marine than any that we'd met, or perhaps Gravis had said something on Doc's behalf. Either way, we were finally given a run-down of the situation.

>Sergeant Gravis had testified.
>No, we would not be told how collecting said testimony had worked.
>Because the mysteries of the Black Carapace were not for us to know.
>No, not even if it turned out that we were completely innocent, what part of "not for us to know" didn't we understand?
>No, the secret wasn't that all Space Marines were actually psychic, and our questions-privileges would be revoked if we did not ask about something else.
>Gravis had said we were a bunch of dangerous incompetents, but probably not heretics, and had backed us up in regards to the dangerousness of Daemonthrope, if not the Daemon-ness.
>The Inquisitor had been informed of this, but had been dubious about the reliability of Gravis' testimony.
>After a bit of… debate, the Inquisitor and the Marines had decided that the Daemonthrope would be immediately destroyed. Heart-Marine was going down to observe the procedure. Purely for reasons of protocol, of course.

The news that they were just going to kill the literally-damned bug, after we'd spent all that time and effort hauling it across the ass-end of the Imperium, did NOT go over well. I mean, we probably should've been happy, since it was supposed to be used as evidence of our crimes or something, but still…

>> No.46578861


>> No.46578880

>>Gravis had said we were a bunch of dangerous incompetents, but probably not heretics, and had backed us up in regards to the dangerousness of Daemonthrope, if not the Daemon-ness.

i mean sure you can call them that but they DO get the job done and come back alive which is more than i can say for most DH team.

>> No.46578900

>dangerously incompetent but probably not heretics

Thanks for the words of support there Gravis. Really.

>> No.46578902



>> No.46578937

After all that, killing the bug has got to suck.

Let's all hope nothing goes wrong while it happens :^)

>> No.46578939

I kinda don't want the nid to die now. It's been like a member of the team. At least, I want one of the guardsmen to be the ones to stomp on its neck and shoot it in the back of the head.

>> No.46579033


Anyway, Sarge made a spirited attempt to convince the Marines that our Daemonthrope-Containment-Unit would work just fine if it was left alone. He was told that the Zoanthrope was an abomination in the eyes of the Emperor, and destruction was the only truly safe option. Twitch, who was coming back into focus after being tranqued, loudly agreed with that sentiment and was told that he was not being very helpful.

It then occurred to Tink that it would be very hard to kill the Daemonthrope without removing it from the Containment Unit. He asked the Apothecary about this, and was told that standard procedure was to shove the whole thing into a plasma-incinerator. Tink asked what would happen to Spot, got asked who "Spot" was, and got as far as "My dr-" before Aimy and Nubby both grabbed him. The Apothecary accepted Aimy's explanation that: "He named the Containment Unit Spot, he's weird like that" without comment.

It was at that point, as Tink was being dragged away from the marines and quietly being told that Fio could build him a new damned drone if we got out of this alive, that a horribly familiar chittery-scratching sensation went through all of our heads. Veteran bug-wranglers that we were, we immediately recognized the psychic screech as a sign of partial containment failure on the Daemonthrope (at least we figured it was partial. You know, on account of how there weren't bugs coming out of the walls). Sarge immediately informed the two confused Space Marines of the situation, and abandoning all pretenses of diplomacy, demanded to know WHAT THE HELL THEIR BOSS WAS PLAYING AT.

>> No.46579107



Called it.

>> No.46579109

Oh boy, here we go

>> No.46579133

Well, at least our boys gave the Inquisitor and Marines some warning about the shit that was about to go down. I'm sure the Lamenter's luck didn't help matters either.

>> No.46579139

I'm half expecting a "See? I told you there's no such thing as daemonthr-WARGLBLRGBLRG"

>> No.46579141

Hes a lamenter

Universe shits on lamenters

>> No.46579173


The only thing that would be worse is if the Lamenter was actually Alpha Legion

>> No.46579174


While Sarge yelled unhelpfully at the Marines, Tink pulled out his controller and announced that he'd started getting a faint signal through the jamming again. From what he could see, all the regular psi-suppressors were offline, the Wraithbone one had been disabled, so only the stasis field was left keeping the Daemonthrope in check. Feeling pretty sure that he knew what his orders would be if he asked for them, the techie immediately started mashing the button to re-engage the Wraithbone suppressor. Through some sort of miracle the signal made it through, and the psychic pressure of the Daemonthrope's mind began to diminish. For about ten seconds that is, then Spot 2.0 reported a "FLAGRANT SYSTEM ERROR" and a second psychic screech knocked all non-superhumans on the pad to their knees.

Over by the Marines, Sarge and Doc hauled themselves back to their feet and practically begged the Astartes to DO SOMETHING; the two Deathwatch Marines ignored them and started arguing again. Since our guards were preoccupied, and it looked like the shit was about to hit the fan either way, the rest of us decided this would be a good time to go collect all the weapons that had been left in the shuttle. Jim and the Adepts were left standing in the middle of landing pad, viewing the situation with increasing alarm, and were therefore in the best position to observe what happened next.

A third screech doubled everyone over again, and was followed by the "sound" of Fumbles screaming for someone to come help him before "they all go loose". Then the entire pad shook and a geyser of fire and blackish-green lightning shot out of the facility's roof. As we all pulled ourselves upright and followed the standard Guard post-explosion procedure of asking everyone else if they were dead, the Heart-Marine punched his way through the elevator's doors. He began walking towards us, and then turned around as a pair of lightning-wreathed figures rose out of the flaming crater behind him.

>> No.46579253


>> No.46579259

Well, fuck.

>> No.46579262


>> No.46579327

everything is okay this is okay nothing is wrong

>> No.46579333


The closer figure was a human-looking shape obscured by some sort of blueish energy bubble. Judging by the hat and coat it was wearing, plus the fact that the only other nearby psyker we knew of was currently "screaming" for help somewhere down below us, it was probably the Inquisitor. There was nothing indistinct about the second figure, it was the Daemonthrope in all its horrible unholy splendor.

The three meter tall snakelike bug still had Sarge's hull-metal shield wrapped around its head, but its eyes blazed red through the metal and a pair of horns, as well as a far more daemonic-looking maw, had somehow formed on the surface of the half-slagged shield. The big change though was the wings: inside the stasis field they'd been sort of vestigial-looking, but now they stretched twice as wide as the Daemonthrope was tall, and they looked a lot more solid than we'd ever seen then. Before this, and when they'd been sported by the possessed Knarloc and the Cogtain, they'd been sort of indistinct and smokey, now they were more like clouds of ink bound into tentacle-like tendrils, and green static crackled through and around them like the field of a poorly-maintained power-weapon. All-in-all it was the most daemonic looking thing we'd ever seen, and mind you that list includes a fair few daemons.

As the two of them rose out of the crater in the facility's roof, the lightning arcing between the Daemonthrope and the Inquisitor's shield steadily intensified. Just as it occurred to us that we should probably do something to help, the Inquisitor's shield disappeared with a little pop. The man hung there for a second, looking surprised, then let out a terrified scream as the electricity reappeared all along his body. His back began to arch, then bend, then crackle. There was a final shrill scream, and a horribly gooey crunching sound, and a basketball-sized sphere slightly cooked gore and overly-dramatic clothing splatted to the ground.

>> No.46579349

I think we just shot clear past every level of FUBAR experienced up to this point hand have ascended to a whole new level of fucked.

>> No.46579376

Holy shit

>> No.46579383

Oh shit.


>> No.46579385


Okay pausing a short while for dinner here (since I got to the art piece and its a good spot anyway)

Will answer any questions anyone has while I munch delicious triscuits.

>> No.46579395

Whelp anybody got a Lasguns I need to shoot myself

>> No.46579397

I hate to say we told you so....

>> No.46579408

How fucked did you think you were when >>46579333

>> No.46579409

Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck, oh so very very fucked.

>> No.46579431

What were the deathwatch marines doing while the whole inquisitor dying thing was happening?

>> No.46579437

Who drew that fanart and how did they know about what happened?

>> No.46579438

> Competent
>> Didn't listen to the AGP when they reported that it was a Daemonthrope and that he should under no circumstances let it out.

Nope. That fucker failed his Sense (Common) check. Clearly, he was not a competent =][=

As for what the AGP do now...
My money is on "let the idiot marines buy time trying to kill it in melee, keep the bropothecary covered, and commandeer one or more anti-aircraft cannons to dispense the Emperor's Indiscriminate Justice to the Daemonthrope.

>> No.46579444

He can't be that competent, seeing as he let the damn daemon nid lose.

>> No.46579449

One of the other players I'd say.

>> No.46579452


>> No.46579458

WIll Rupert live?

>> No.46579463

He messed with a containment unit he had no idea how it worked. That isn't competent.

>> No.46579480

Whats Aimy's Bust size?

>> No.46579482

I think it's clear that the fucker never trained in Logic.

>> No.46579496

If he was competent, he never would have shut down the stasis field.

>> No.46579509

Fuck that, save the Lamenter.

>> No.46579534

>Nubby was the first one to come to grips with the situation, and before the Inquisitor had even finished telling his two Deathwatch Space Marine bodyguards to kill us if we attempted to do anything, the little trooper was volunteering to testify against Oak in exchange for clemency, and also possibly a small cash payment.
Oh you.

>> No.46579550

Asking the real question we all want answered.

>> No.46579552

In all likelyhood he made the perfectly reasonable judgement that "It's literally frozen in time, the psy-supressors are just a waste of equipment and power since it's literally frozen in time and so unable to do anything at all because it's literally frozen in ti-OH SHIT.".

>> No.46579564

More competent than others
>rupert would try to kill it like inquisitor man tried
>queen bitch would try to release it
>bond James would be bond James (and kill agp in the process
>oak is (probably) a fucking liar
He Isn't incompetent he just as competent as everyone else

>> No.46579566


Now there's a suicide mission if I've ever heard one.

>> No.46579604

An he never stopped to think of WHY they would put all that on it?

>> No.46579611

Always save the medic first. Granted, this isn't YOUR unit's medic, but still a medic.
Plus, he seems to be the closest thing to a Reasonable Marine around here, and the AGP could really use some Knights Inductor to sort this shit out and agree that yes, everything they did was the best possible way to follow their orders under the circumstances they were in, so no, they do not require punishment.

Also, you'll need the Apothecary to keep the other marines alive after they get themselves fucking mauled trying to melee a Daemonthrope.

>> No.46579613

Who do you play as in the AGP?

>> No.46579614

They were interrogators anyway. Trainee Inquisitors with little experience. New Dead Guy has seen some shit and still got turned into chunky salsa.

>> No.46579629

This. They're endangered.

>> No.46579638


Like >>46579482 said: Obviously, this guy never trained Logic.

New Dead Guy did something uberstupid and paid the price for it.

>> No.46579639

About a 7. Aside from the obvious situation (us vs major daemon without armor or our explosives), we knew that several of those skill checks hadn't gone our way and we'd be punished for it.

But on the other hand, we had three fucking space marines to act as meat shields.

The official records state that they were temporarily incapacitated by the psychic screech.

The same fellow who drew the poker room and Spot. I sent him the scene info back when I started this chapter.



Judge for yourself.

Nubby and Crisp, and I handle most of Fumbles' stuff despite him being an NPC.

>> No.46579672

And rupert is a inqusitor now and he'd do what the inquisitor did

>> No.46579675

Given that his elite goons took multiple tries to find the psyker, he likely lived in a constant state of assuming everybody else to be utterly incompetent unless proven otherwise.

>> No.46579679

Thank You based Shoggy.

>> No.46579693

How Moe is Fumbles.

>> No.46579711

>Judge for yourself.

"Big enough to be worth fondling, crazy enough not to fuck her with someone else's dick."

>> No.46579713

Bat butler would have talked him out of it.

>> No.46579717

>Shoggy plays Nubby and Crisp


>> No.46579723

So double Ds then?

>> No.46579746

Who was your favorite Interrogator?

>> No.46579835

Guy's a marine errant, they have a history with working with normal humans

>> No.46579837

If its not the Rupert, It's probably "That Bitch". They were the only two to really get development,

>> No.46579841

Yeah, but the Rupert is only a full Inquisitor because the AGP shoved the square peg through the round hole with high-explosives on his Inquisitorial exams.

>> No.46579843

I do what I can (because I must)

A steadily increasing amount (mostly due to the art)

Well, the only one when didn't hate in character was the Rupert. That said I'm rather partial to Bane, but that's because I tend to prefer comedic adventures.

>resuming, not sure where I'll stop for the night/week yet, but it's not yet!

>> No.46579892

We need more Fumbles.

>> No.46579912

What was fumbles screame? A psychic shout or a emotion so strong that you could feel it almost like a shout?

>> No.46579953

>big red button


>> No.46579954

Caught one live! And things have already gone ploin!

>> No.46579961

He's a moderately strong telepath, so he's just "sending" on a general band.

His emotional aura caps our at like 15 meters.

>> No.46579962

You cock. It was blacked out for a reason!

>> No.46579981


Jim and two out of three Adepts screamed, Aimy snickered, Tink and Twitch simultaneously yelled "TOLD YOU SO" at no-one in particular, Sarge facepalmed, and Doc looked up at the Apothecary. The medical-marine let out a weary sigh as the Inquisitor's hat drifted down to rest on top of his compressed corpse, and muttered something about needing yet another new Inquisitor. Nubby, his voice returning, pointed out "da big daemonic bug fing 'overing over dere", which was entertaining itself by tearing a hole in the fabric of reality, and asked the Marines what they were going to do about it. Grumpy and Heart-Marine both let out battle cries and charged forward; the Apothecary shook his head and followed them at a more sedate pace.

With a little mutter about them having fun with that, Nubby started to sidle towards the shuttle, only to be yanked into the air by Sarge, who was already bellowing orders and demands for information at the rest of us. Jim reported that the shuttle was still out of fuel, still had twenty AA guns pointed at it, and STILL had its long range comm jammed. Tink checked his controller and said that his drone was coming back online, and the wraithbone suppressor MIGHT be salvageable if he went down to fiddle with it. Sarge digested this, and then declared that, since running away and calling for reinforcements weren't viable options, our only real choice was to kill the bug.

The problem with this idea was that none of us had ANY desire to go toe-to-toe with something that could compress someone into paste with a glance... Luckily, there were three crazy bastards in power armor who would do it for us. All we needed to do was figure out a way to help the Marines without getting ourselves horribly killed in the process. A short debate was held, and by the time the Deathwatch Marines had opened fire, a plan had been formed.

>> No.46579994

Oh my god I want an Aimy 28mm model to serve as my Vindicare SO FREAKING BAD! Seriously, the Vindicare models got NOTHING on her in that picture.

>> No.46580008

So what happens when fumbles gets aroused? with the whole aura things?

>> No.46580037

NO bad anon! Bad!

>> No.46580055

Everyone drowns in tuna and boners.

>> No.46580060

Presumably, Fumbles has gotten used to turning down potential fuck-buddies since anything else would be kinda rape-y.

>> No.46580079


>> No.46580088

Where the fuck do you think we are?

>> No.46580089


It was decided that Sarge and Aimy would stay on the surface. They'd do their best to assist the Marines, probably by picking with the small tide of Daemonids that'd started pouring out of the newly-opened warp-rift, and try to avoid drawing too much of the Daemonthrope's attention.

Meanwhile, Tink would go retrieve his drone and the Wraithbone suppressor, and then try to figure out a way to weaponize it, while Nubby would do the same thing with Fumbles. Twitch would support them and lend his skills to the whole weaponizing thing, and Doc would go along to make sure nobody did anything retarded, which technically made him the man in charge. Doc was not thrilled with this assignment.

Finally, Jim and the Adepts were told to go… do something useful. Like getting the AA guns sorted out, or unjamming the long-range comms, or finding some sort of holy artifact stored in a case marked "In case of Daemonic Incursion Break Glass". Anything that got them out of the line of fire really. They accepted their orders without complaint, and scampered off after Doc's team towards the partially-destroyed elevator into the base.

>> No.46580105

Do not sexualize Fumbles!

>> No.46580137


>sexualizes Fumbles....for the Emprah

>> No.46580152

Fudge you I I do what I want.

>> No.46580177

I know right?

>> No.46580181

It must be HARD for him around Aimy.

>> No.46580184

>Kills you for inquisitor oak
>with a mininuke
>that's on golden fire

>> No.46580213


She's the kind of girl his mother always warned him about.

Plus, I'm pretty sure she's actually assaulted him a few times.

>> No.46580220

Sorry, no can do.

>> No.46580245

I bet she has.

>> No.46580249


Those of us in "Team Doc" climbed through the hole that the heart-marine had punched in the elevator's doors. Inside we discovered the reason for the Marine's violent exit: the elevator's car appeared to be stuck about halfway down the shaft and all the lights and control panels were dark. There was a maintenance ladder on the far side of the shaft which, judging by the massive hand and foot shaped dents in its rungs, the Heart-Marine had used to get back to surface. We noticed that a few of the rungs had either broken or been ripped entirely out of the wall, but the Space Marine weighed a lot more than us, so we figured it was probably safe and began climbing down.

Jim and the Adepts were a little more dubious, but they eventually gave up looking for other options and followed us. After Twitch popped a rung loose (which barely missed Doc) and dropped half a level, they decided that whatever they were going to do could probably be done on the first level and hastily exited the shaft. We asked them to look into fixing the elevator while they were at it.

The signal from Spot and the volume of Fumbles' periodic incoherent psychic shouts peaked three levels below the stuck elevator, and we decided to exit the shaft. Tink suffered a minor heart attack when the first thing he saw after prying open the doors was a pair of turrets aimed at his nose, luckily they didn't seem to register him as a threat, and the rest of us managed to catch the techie as he reflexively dodged backwards into the shaft.

After a little debate over whether the turrets were "just waiting for us to let our guard down", which ended with Nubby tossing a half-eaten ration bar at one of them to see if they'd return fire, we all climbed through the doors.

>> No.46580330


We found ourselves in a short hallway that ended with a second pair of turrets and an impressive looking security door. Another debate was started over whether the turrets would attack us if we tried to plasma the door open, but Doc resolved the issue by checking the door's controls and discovering that it wasn't actually locked. In fact none of the doors we ran into on our way into the base were locked and all the turrets were just as immobile as the AA guns on the surface had been, which was both convenient and disconcerting as hell. I mean, we'd just delivered a daemonically possessed Zoanthrope to the place. Who knew what sort of shit was penned up down here just waiting for a chance to escape…

Well, actually, the recently-squished Inquisitor had probably known, since judging by the ransacked appearance of the facility he'd been spending the last week or so gathering up everything in the place as evidence of heretical experiments or whatever. He was a bit too busy being an asshole (also dead) to share that info with us though. Anyway, none of us, not even Twitch, had time to spare worrying about what was in the base or why its security was offline, because we could hear and FEEL the battle going on back up on the pad. We followed Spot's signal, rushing through hallways and across recently-stripped rooms without incident, until we finally reached a security door with a piece of paper that said "EVIDENCE STORAGE" taped to it. We opened the door, which led to yet another turret-filled hallway, at the exact same instant as some sort of eight-legged, augmetic-covered lizard monster came through the far door.

We looked at the lizard monster, it probably looked at us, something in the room behind it exploded, and then Nubby slammed our door back shut.

>> No.46580357





>> No.46580371


>> No.46580385

>some sort of holy artifact stored in a case marked "In case of Daemonic Incursion Break Glass"


>> No.46580387


>> No.46580405

Maybe it's friendly.

>> No.46580411

wasn't that the entire plot of the Ultramarines film

>> No.46580412

Tank you for all you have given us based Shoggy, it has been an honor and a privilege to watch you and your group fuck up harder faster and better than anyone ever has. Also, will the heroes of the Poker Room ever return?

>> No.46580414

This, I meant this.

>> No.46580436

Protip: It isn't

>> No.46580482

>Live Rak'Gol
That alone is exceptionally impressive since they are not only nasty to deal with, but there has also never been a live capture.

>> No.46580511

>eight legged lizard monster


>> No.46580535


A bare second after the door slid closed something slammed into it, leaving a large outward dent in metal. This was followed by the sound of four turrets beeping to life and a sort of general fracas as they and the lizard monster sorted out their differences. Nubby, his finger still held firmly on the "Close" button, suggested finding another way into the evidence room, or at least waiting to see if the turrets won. Doc, feeling like he should do something leadery, announced that there probably wasn't enough time so we'd have to open the door and deal with the thing. The rest us agreed, but the question of just how to do it was up for debate.

After a short argument, in which it was decided that trying to flash and rush a creature that had a metal plate instead of eyes and could punch head-sized dents in security doors was stupid, we decided to go with our other usual strategy of blowing the ugly thing up. There was a problem with this plan though: it'd been several weeks of combat since our last resupply and Twitch's stockpile of explosives down to just his backup-backup grenade and mine, plus the single improvised explosive which Sarge had let him bring on the shuttle. Twitch asked for the rest of us to pony up whatever we had, but Tink and Doc didn't have anything except a few flashes (Doc was given shit for not saving the syringe of face-melting biotoxin that had been recently extracted from Gravis, at least until he threatened to go get another one and make Tink carry it). Nubby, on the other hand, grinned an evil little grin when he was asked, and reached into his perpetually-filthy coat.

Up on the surface, Brother Bellicus of the Dark Templars noticed a large group of daemonic hormagaunts moving to flank him, reached for his grenades, and swore when his hand closed on nothing.

>> No.46580541


Probably the same way we captured our little daemon.

stasis bubble.

>> No.46580548

At least it wasn't Slaugth.

T-they don't have any of those do they?

>> No.46580558


>> No.46580577


>> No.46580623

Nubby Stole.

Nubby Stole from an Astartes.



>> No.46580633

Noting nubby probably a 2 minimum

>> No.46580643

Damn it Nubby....

>> No.46580680

His augmetic legs came with a pair of best quality augmetic balls which is a +20 to all actions that one could consider... ballsy

>> No.46580717

Nubby has a passive aura of pilfering.

>> No.46580735


>> No.46580768


At Twitch's mark Nubby popped door open just wide enough for a lumpy object, which consisted of a half-dozen crosswired lasgun powerpacks wrapped with tape and nails, and two astartes-sized frag grenades to be tossed through. A few second later the door was reopened as far as the dent in it would allow, and we all squeezed into a hallway which was a bit worse for wear and smelled rather disturbingly like grilled grox. We all resisted the urge to see if the xenos' remains tasted like they smelled, made our way to the far end of the hallway, and discovered that the door had locked itself when the turrets had activated. Since said turrets had been pounded to scrap by the lizard-thing, Tink just plasma-ed the door's locking mechanism and opened it to reveal a scene of pure mayhem.

To start with, it wasn't an Evidence Room, it was an Evidence WAREHOUSE. The place was absolutely massive and filled with stacks upon stacks of =][= stamped boxes as well as a few hundred large metal cubes that we guessed were some sort of mobile prison cell. The stacks had probably been all neat and orderly up to a few minutes ago, but the explosion that had preceded the Daemonthrope's escape had occurred just on the other side of the room's left wall.

The crates and cells had been scattered across the room, many of them cracking open in the process. Servitors, terrified scribes, prisoners, and escaped xenos specimens were running in every direction, several things had caught on fire, and in the center of the room there was the mother of all three-way melees. As far as we could tell the teams were: the remnants of ex-Inquisitor's retinue, a group of servitors and prisoners led by something that looked like a human except with the size and musculature of an Ork Warboss, and what we guessed (based on all the extra limbs and such) was an entire genestealer cult.

Nubby tried to close the door again, but was stopped by Doc.

>> No.46580820

>The crates and cells had been scattered across the room, many of them cracking open in the process. Servitors, terrified scribes, prisoners, and escaped xenos specimens were running in every direction, several things had caught on fire, and in the center of the room there was the mother of all three-way melees. As far as we could tell the teams were: the remnants of ex-Inquisitor's retinue, a group of servitors and prisoners led by something that looked like a human except with the size and musculature of an Ork Warboss, and what we guessed (based on all the extra limbs and such) was an entire genestealer cult.


Worst prison ever.

>> No.46580823


Thinks just make their way from the pockets of others into the pockets of Nubby?

Yeah, I'd buy that. How many points would it be as an Elite Advance for a Techpriest? Would Factor of the Lathes change anything? :)

>> No.46580838

"Lets just stuff all of this shit in a big room!"

>> No.46580844

Holy shit. They weren't kidding about oak being a Pokemon Professor.

>> No.46580848

Soooooo it's literally the finale of Cabin in the Woods.

>> No.46580850

Serves em right for holding him upside down next to their utility belt.
I can't remember the DC, but it wasn't that bad with all the modifiers. I do remember the 1 grenade per degree of success part.

>> No.46580853

Oh sure, let Nubby loose in a warehouse filled with contraband.

>> No.46580890


Landing pad and just a single door up stairs. Huge =][= facility downstairs.

Abominations in the basement.


God, are they keeping something worst down there?

What could be worse that this shit?

What a aspect of teenzch or a C'Tan?

>> No.46580901

>a human except with the size and musculature of an Ork Warboss




>> No.46580909

There hiding malal

>> No.46580931

They're hiding...

A boxed set of Age of Sigmar with a commemorative Sigmarine costume

>> No.46580935

Actual Xenomrophs and Cthulhu.

"Oak is quite the clever man."

>> No.46580950

Okay, everything else that matters has been laid to rest. Time to read this shit.

Good to see you again, Shoggy.

>> No.46580952

Actually, they did recover that Necron Cube. So a C'Tan might not be out of the question...

>> No.46580965


We stared at the carnage for a while, and then unanimously decided that we wanted NOTHING to do with any of it. Don't get me wrong, we were all brave upstanding soldiers of the Astra Militarum. "The Many, The Expendable, the Guard" and all that… It's just that we had more pressing things to deal with, and honestly we just didn't really care about who was fighting who over what. In our professional opinion they all looked like psychotic assholes, so we were perfectly fine with them killing each other to their hearts' content, at least so long as they didn't drag us into it.

We began sidling around the edge of the room and towards the Daemonthrope's crater (the Sidle being the form of movement which best conveys "I am not part of this, please ignore me and go about your business/argument/murder"). It took a little work to find our way through the scattered evidence boxes while simultaneously trying to keep as much cover as possible between us and the melee, but aside from the occasional stray shot whizzing by or still-warm corpse lying in our path, we managed to avoid most of the locals.

There were only three real interruptions in our progress. The first was when a terrified man we recognized as the scribe that had accompanied the Inquisitor on the landing pad nearly ran into us. Twitch shot him on reflex, and the rest of us refrained from commenting.

The second interruption was a little more eventful. The giant man-thing in the middle of the room bellowed, a cell crashed into the wall ahead of us, and something tentacular began to worm its way out. Twitch shot this interruption on reflex too, but this time we all joined in. After a few volleys the tentacles retreated into the cell, Twitch tossed his frag grenade in after them, and we continued on our way.

The last interruption occurred as we neared the crater entrance and did not begin with Twitch shooting anyone, but that was only because Nubby grabbed his gun.

>> No.46581000

>Astra Militarum.


>Captcha: Bananas.

>> No.46581031

Oh calm down.

>> No.46581043


>> No.46581055


As we approached the edge of the crater, three indistinct forms that looked a bit like short cloaked figures came around a pile of crates and practically walked into us. Nubby stopped Twitch and gestured at the rest of us to squeeze against the wall. We did as he said, and watched in surprise as he cheerfully waved at the three figures then directed them towards the exit. There was a greasy croaking sound, a whiff of something absolutely vile, and then the figures just vanished into thin air.

That was a little disconcerting, but Nubby told the rest of us that the it was fine: the cloaked whatsits were "Bendies", and they were wonderful people. For horrible mutant xenos at least. Apparently they hung out in the sewers on some hive worlds and were a great way to get rid of things. You know, like proscribed substances that no one would buy, or pieces of equipment that you just happened to have found lying around on the battlefield, but turned out to have belonged to the Commissar and now had your fingerprints all over them. Also bodies, great for getting rid of bodies. Anyway, wonderful people he said, aside from the smell. The rest of us eyed Nubby, who had never intentionally bathed or changed his underwear in his life and whose breath could tarnish ceramite, and decided not to comment.

Shortly after that slightly disturbing encounter we reached the gaping hole that had been blasted in the room's wall. The room on the other side was a much smaller version of the evidence room, with a brand new daemonthrope-installed skylight. We guessed that it had held fifty or so evidence boxes, one of those mobile cells, and eight-ish Inquisitorial minions. Now it was filled with… parts.

Anyway, the knee-deep gore was just backdrop, what really caught our eyes when we peered through the crater was the only intact thing in the room: the top half of our Daemonthrope Containment Unit. Oh, and the half-naked woman who was crouched on top of it and singing.

>> No.46581075

>Astra Militarum.

>> No.46581092

>Oh, and the half-naked woman who was crouched on top of it and singing.

>> No.46581105

O hai Inquisi-bitch. Also, where the fuck is Fumbles?

>> No.46581122


>> No.46581124 [DELETED] 

There is no conspiracy to make tradition games politically correct.al Characters in fiction and gaming communities simply change with respect to the latest cultural values. But you fedora-tipping cancerous fucks always blame imaginary SocJus boogeymen when people start hating you for the shit that you do. As long as you continue to refuse act like decent human beings, people will keep noticing.
But of course, you will keep blaming imaginary "SJWs", "poseurs" and "normies" when you the public hates you for the scum you are. And let's not even get started on how you all react to games becoming more popular and easily accessible.

>> No.46581128


Hrud. Ah.

Inb4 the woman is fumbles. Fumbled perils check into changed gender.

>> No.46581150


>> No.46581152


After an initial second of shock, scantily-clad women being just about the last thing we'd expected to find in an Inquisitorial research facility, we realised that things were not as they seemed. It's hard to say what tipped us off exactly, it might have been the odd shape of her ears, or the unnatural harmonics of or singing, or maybe it was the words "ELDAR SUBJECT #4" printed on the back of her tattered straitjacket. Regardless, our well-honed Inquisitorial investigation abilities told us that, while the creature prying at the containment unit was female, she was not a woman. She was also not an Ork, no matter what Twitch said.

So no shit, there we were standing in the only entrance of a room containing a half-naked, unarmed Eldar of the female persuasion, who was apparently too focused on singing to the Daemonthrope Containment Unit to even notice our arrival. The question of what to do in this sort of situation is something that bored guardsmen (or idle cogitator adepts) might spend endless amounts of time arguing over. Not us though, we were above that sort of thing….

Yeah, okay, no we weren't. I mean, aside from avoiding work and blowing things up, pointless arguments (especially sordid ones) were just about our favorite pastime. It was just that before we could get started Tink noticed that a tendril of wraithbone was snaking out towards the singing Eldar from the Containment Unit. Before any of us could stop him the techie stepped around the corner, raised his plasma gun, and told the Xenos to stop messing with his stuff and get her own damned Wraithbone.

Nubby snickered, Doc groaned in exasperation, and Twitch pulled Tink out of the way of the bolt of lighting the Eldar flung at him. We all reflexively ducked into cover as two more lightning bolts shot through the hole, and when we peeked around the corner again the entire back half of the small room was filled with an opaque mist.

>> No.46581155

The fuck are you on about? Wrong thread dude

>> No.46581157

Second thread I've seen you in. Must be a long night, eh?

>> No.46581172

incoming shitstorm

>> No.46581173

You've been as misinformed on tit size as the average woman is on cock size.

>> No.46581180

Second time I've seen that it one of these threads actually. The ways of the baiter are odd.

>> No.46581193




>> No.46581199

It is spam. Report it and also make a message on the feedback page about it. With enough complaints, maybe they'll add the thing to the spam filter.

>> No.46581224

Actually that was probably Inquisitor Incompetence earning his new nickname. Considering how much Eldar like Chaos she's probably trying to stop the Daemonid.

>> No.46581233


>> No.46581241

Not gonna lie, I've saved every single fanart so far as my desktop background. Who makes them for you?

>> No.46581247

Dude I know it's probably a-b range I was just joking ya moron (seriously snipers can't have big boobs how would they snipe?)

>> No.46581265

I wonder who is behind this post?

>> No.46581267


Never seen that .gif before. Thanks.

>from /pol/

>> No.46581269

Well, hell, they've already got one pet tau.

Remember kids, there is heresy, and there is Heresy.

There's tech-heresy, xeno-heresy, xeno-tech heresy, but you can get away with all of the above in the Imperial Inquisition. As long as you don't, you know, get flagrant about it.

Just remember to stay away from the capital-h Heresy. That's a paddlin'.

>> No.46581304


The next minute or so were spent calling Tink names. This was not the most productive use of our time, but none of us were dumb enough to try running into the mist and dislodging the xenos psyker. Doc was especially miffed, since his whole job had been to stop the rest of us from doing something like this, and Tink kept using that as an excuse for why this wasn't his fault.

Anyway, after another minute or so of juvenile arguing it became apparent that the Eldar's mist wasn't going to just dissipate on its own and something proactive needed to be done. Unfortunately our options were sort of limited.

Tink proposed a flash and clear, but the rest of us had bad memories of the last time we'd tried that on a prepared psyker, and made it Plan B. Nubby spoke up next, and suggested going to get Fumbles, who was still making noise somewhere at the back of the evidence warehouse. Since this would involve either splitting up or leaving the Eldar to mess with the Containment Unit, and because we weren't too optimistic about Fumbles' ability to go head-to-head with an Eldar psyker, this was made Plan C. Twitch began to suggest something truly harebrained, but was cut off by Doc, who'd decided that he'd had enough and it was time to "Take Charge of the Situation".

In an odd repeat of the last time we'd faced this sort of thing, Doc poked his head around the corner and attempted to engage the Xenos in diplomacy. To our immense surprise, instead of shooting our medic in the head with a lightning bolt, the Eldar stopped singing to listen to him.

>> No.46581306

>That's a paddlin'.

>> No.46581307

I have over 6 million merchant images and I have not seen this one. Thanks, I rate it 14/88.

>> No.46581357

What is with all of the /pol/ ITT?
Is Stormfront trying to be cool again?

>> No.46581358


Doc, xenos whisperer.

>> No.46581372


>> No.46581389

/pol/ is a board of peace

>> No.46581396


>> No.46581434

That artist has asked not to be named, but other pieces have been done by:



and a fellow named Vadim at [email protected]

>> No.46581476

I love how Doc is always trying to solve things through his terrible social skills.

>> No.46581486


/pol/ is a peaceful and loving place.


>> No.46581513

I hope mootwo nukes it again.

>> No.46581518

Tumblr pls. Everyone knows grills have -4 strength. Boobs are bags of sand. Bags of sand weigh down grills. Grills can't carry as much do to the bags of sand. Thus grills are always regulated to the ranged roll.

>> No.46581522

We dindu nuffin.

>> No.46581527

sarcasm doesn't work on text-based mediums anon

>> No.46581540

I'm building quite the AGP image folder.

>> No.46581548

Go to bed, Drew.

>> No.46581553

Yeah, like how he nuked it the last three times. Remember that?

>> No.46581586


We wuz good bois.

>> No.46581632

Don't talk to my wife's son ever again.

>> No.46581639


Now, Doc wasn't a good smoothtalker, but he did tend to radiate a sort of awkward earnestness, which can really count for something in this sort of situation. The rest of us watched this all with varying degrees of incredulousness as he started off with an apology for Tink's behavior, and then began explaining the overall situation and how the Containment Unit figured into it. The Eldar only responded with more silence, but since that wasn't a lightning bolt, Doc took it as a good sign and moved a little farther into the room as he continued talking

It was honestly the most impressive attempt at interspecies diplomacy we'd witnessed. I mean sure, we'd seen whole worlds shared between humans and the Tau, but the slit-heads tend to be sort of wishy-washy and there'd probably been a lot of highly trained diplomats involved in all that. This was just one slightly naive soldier trying to convince a xenos (who probably had a massive grudge against the Inquisition, not to mention a racial affinity for dickishness) to give peace a chance. It was powerful, moving really, and we all honestly believed that given enough time it totally would have worked.

The thing was though, that while Doc was making his heartfelt plea, Tink was playing around with his drone controller and managed to get control of Spot's recon sensors as well as one of the mundane psi-suppressors…. And we were sort of on a tight schedule what with the Daemonthrope doing Emperor knew what up above us and Fumbles still needing a rescue… And, you know, better safe than sorry, right?

The Eldar had a second to be very surprised when her cloud of mist fizzled into nothing, and then a barrage of plasma and pulse rounds knocked her off the Containment Unit.

Doc was NOT happy. Even though we pointed out that our shots had missed anything immediately fatal, so if he really wanted to he could patch the Xenos up and give her the whole friendship speech again.

>> No.46581662

You're my hero. Keep up the magnificent work!

>> No.46581668

Oh tink.

>> No.46581677

Winning hearts and minds, boys.

>> No.46581682

Oh thank the Emperor, I thought there was going to be some serious heresy for a second.

>> No.46581699

Doc's already got one waifu, soldier.

And you don't cheat on a woman who knows that the fastest way to a man's heart is through the ribcage.

>> No.46581711

There's still plenty of time for that anon

>> No.46581729

I don't think Doc's SISTER OF BATTLE girlfriend would appreciate him fraternizing with Xenos.
I mean, sure they have one blueie, but does she know about him?

>> No.46581766

Fio is the worst held secret on the ship.

>> No.46581797

Everyone knows and really wishes they didn't.

>> No.46581809

I am pretty sure Sarge and Aimy will be a couple, that's going to happen.

>> No.46581859

Dude, no. You NEVER get involved with your subordinates. It's against regulations.

>> No.46581860


It's late, Sven. Time for you to go back to the cuckshed. Thanks for trying to stick up for me, though. I'll ask you wife's boyfriend to be a little nicer to you in the future.

>> No.46581863


With that last obstacle out of his way, Tink ran over to the Containment Unit to see what the Eldar had done to it and figure out if the fancy wraithbone suppressor was salvageable. While he got to work, Doc grumpily dragged the bleeding xenos into a position where he could simultaneously treat her and keep an eye on the entrance. Nubby and Twitch loitered for a few seconds to see if they were needed for anything, until an especially loud shout for help from Fumbles reminded them that they had something better to do.

Nubby and Twitch's trip around the edge of the big room was relatively uneventful. It seemed liked everything that was capable of movement had either fled the room or run off to join the big melee, which was now reaching some sort of climax. The two troopers ignored the massive clusterfuck, pausing to let the occasional running gunfight go past or dodge a falling stack of boxes.

The only real excitement was when a cargo servitor holding an obese man crashed across their path, and then began bashing its captive against one of the stacks like an unwanted cat. The fat man was probably a psyker, because as he screamed for help reality went a bit non-euclidian and the floor started growing faces, but that might have had more to do with the large box labeled "EXTRA HERETICAL" that he was being bashed against. Either way, the two troopers ignored the altercation and walked the through the patch of warped reality with the ease of people who'd seen worse phenomena on trips to ship's mess.

Aside from those little inconveniences, finding Fumbles really wasn't that hard. It was just a matter of heading in the general direction of all the psychic shouting, and then homing in on the sense of bowel-loosening fear emanating from the little psyker. So before long Twitch and Nubby reached the corner of the room where Fumbles was hiding and discovered what had him so worked up. They then very carefully stepped backwards into cover to observe the situation.

>> No.46581895


The scene was a… weird one. Fumbles, or some other scrawny little psyker that periodically flickered in and out of visibility and radiated fear, had been chased up a large pile of boxes by a mob of small, green figures that looked vaguely like Nubby. The Gretchins were taking turns climbing up the pile and then fleeing back down as Fumbles' aura of terror overwhelmed them, but that sort of behavior wasn't anything too unusual given their racial affinity for cowardice, it was their boss that was the weird part.

You know those really secure prisoner transport thingies? Like with all the straps holding someone to a gurney, along with a facemask and maybe some padlocks? Dial that up to 11, replace the gurney with a hand-truck being pushed by three Gretchin standing on each other's shoulders, and replace the prisoner with a raving Ork Weirdboy surrounded by an aura of crackling green light. And when I say raving, I mean it. The weirdboy could speak gothic, seemed to be using his mouth to compensate for being unable to move anything else, and from the sound of it was (even by Ork standards) completely bat-shit insane.

It was hard to keep track of everything he was saying, but in the minute or so Twitch and Nubby were listening, the primary theme seemed to be that he wanted Fumbles' head. Literally. You know, like attached to his shoulder with stitches and stuff. He even had a Gretchin with a surgical mask standing by. From what we could tell his motivation for this had something to do with two heads being better than one, and it being the secret to "DA BRAINY 'UMMIE'S POWA". So yeah, totally nuts, and very frustrated with Fumbles, who kept doing rude things like refusing to come down to be decapitated or claiming that he was only a figment of the Ork's imagination.

>> No.46581897


It's going to happen. He'll give in and be intimate with the only sane woman that's around. That's not Doc's girlfriend.

>> No.46581921


>Doc grumpily dragged the bleeding xenos into a position where he could simultaneously treat her and keep an eye on the entrance.

~Heresy is in the air tonight~

>> No.46581931

Nah, Sarge needs a big woman with a big heart. And someone outside of his chain of command. Aimy's just another damaged grunt he's gotta keep alive despite her own self destructive tendencies.

>> No.46581954

The missus' bull is already quite nice to me. They let me have internet access between noon and six now.

>> No.46581989

>or claiming that he was only a figment of the Ork's imagination.
Clever 'umie.

>> No.46582000

Has Shoggy ever shown us the sheets of any of the Guardsmen?

I'm kind of interested in the template they used when they made characters for the Only War campaign. When you make over a 100 guardsmen, the formula must be SEARED into your brain.

>> No.46582005

I am pretty sure we have been hinted at their relationship, the extra long hug and the hanging out in the bridge.

But the last one is due to hanging out with Tink, Twitch, Doc, or Nubby isn't fun at all.

>> No.46582024

>only sane woman
Have we been reading the same threads?

>> No.46582027


Who would want to get with a girl with skunk-hair?

>> No.46582036


Now, as amusing as it would've been to stand there and keep watching the Ork arguing with Fumbles, it just wasn't in the cards. Shortly after Twitch and Nubby arrived, the Weirdboy ran out of patience and announced that Fumbles had "TILL DA COUNT OF… UH… FOUR! TA COME DOWN, OR IMMA SQUIG YA!"

Up to this point Twitch had just been muttering to himself about how he'd known it all along, and Nubby had mostly been trying to figure out if the box he was hiding behind (marked "PROBABLY NOT HERETICAL") had anything tactically useful and/or valuable inside of it (it didn't), but the this new time limit kicked them into gear. Both troopers raised their weapons and got ready to shoot the Weirdboy as soon as it finished its counting and began drawing on its notoriously unstable powers. Over the next twenty seconds the Ork (with the help of his Gretchin horde) managed to count up to two, then skipped to five, got confused at eight, went back down to six for another try, and finally decided to skip ahead to thirteen. Nubby and Twitch lowered their weapons again.

Since there was apparently enough time to do something more clever than just spraying and praying, Twitch brought out the mechanical-action mine that was his last remaining explosive. For his part, Nubby began waving at Fumbles while concentrating on the thought of turning Twitch invisible while he planted the mine on the still-counting Weirdboy. Fumbles noticed the waving and caught on pretty quickly: the little psyker faded back into visibility, screwed up his face in concentration, and Twitch faded out. The demolitions trooper moved fast, which is why he was only five meters from the Weirdboy when a violent burst of energy from the warp smashed into Fumbles' mind, sending him reeling. Twitch swore as his invisibility fizzled, hucked the mine towards the Weirdboy like a frisbee, and sprinted back towards Nubby as the little trooper opened fire on full-auto.

>> No.46582047


Only woman on the ship that isn't a tribal, a soritas, or cogged.

It's not easy.

>> No.46582053

It's likely more due to her being more responsible than Nubby, Twitch, or Tink. I'd say she's his possible replacement, not his girlfriend.

>> No.46582064

>last remaining explosive

>> No.46582086

Say what you will, but Tribal Girls know how to party. Also they aren't so delicate either.

>> No.46582103

Twitch out of explosives? That's like the golden throne running out of psykers!

>> No.46582120

There's almost certainly, you know, ordinary human crew on the OB who are female.

That's when the Emprah takes a shit that spawns a new Eye of Terror on Terra? An Eye of Terrar, if you will?

>> No.46582122


Sarge goes down and slums for hood rats.
What's the only woman he is near on a constant basis?

Who has fought with him and tries her best to be near him?

>> No.46582126


Several things happened at once. Twitch's mine bounced off the thick metal band restraining the Weirdboy's head, sailed off in a random direction, was snatched out of the air by an overenthusiastic Gretchin, and promptly exploded. The force of the blast knocked the Weirdboy's dolly over backwards, taking the Ork out of Nubby's line of fire and crushing the three Gretchins that had been pushing it.

Nubby adjusted his aim, but as he did so, the ork psyker bellowed something. Somewhere in the pack of Gretchins one of them exploded in a shower of green sparks and a small cloud of acrid smoke, the rest surged forwards with a high-pitched "WAAAGH", intercepting Nubby's fire and closing the gap surprisingly fast. Nubby held the trigger down until Twitch reached him, then they both did some quick math, decided that thirty-and-an-enraged-weirdboy-to-two odds weren't in their favor, and cheesed it.

Now, despite what it looked like, this was not a cowardly retreat. It was actually a carefully planned tactical maneuver to distract the enemy from the true objective. Or at least it turned out that way in any case. Veteran retreaters that they were, Twitch and Nubby easily outpaced the xenos and broke contact long enough to come up with a plan and split up.

Twitch stayed on the path they'd been following. He found a nice firing position and started shooting Gretchins as they came around a handy corner, racking up seven kills without any real trouble. Then the Weirdboy (and the Gretchins pushing him) shot around the corner, tilting up on one wheel, and bellowing "ITZ SQUIGGIN TIME", as he came.

>> No.46582129

The best argument for Sarge and Amie is that her mother is a lord general somewhere. She probably won't be a subordinate for long, if they ever get out of the 'already dead' status being an inquisition goon gives them.

>> No.46582142

He's got more. Those are for when his teammates turn out to be Ork Kommandos who infiltrated his regiment from their earliest campaigns. He's not stupid, he wouldn't let them know about THOSE explosives.

>> No.46582154

>implying sororitas are delicate

>> No.46582180


There was a brief struggle of wills, at the end of which Twitch's mind was fairly certain that he was actually a hyper-carnivorous ball of teeth. Luckily, Twitch's body was harder to convince, and shook off the Weirdboy's attack with no more damage than a few lacerations and a pulled muscle or two. The demolitions trooper blinked, realized how close to a fate worse than death he'd just come, and decided it was time to get running again. The small orkish horde let out another "WAAAGH" and followed him.

A few dozen meters away, Nubby sidled out through a gap between two stacks of boxes and found himself back where the chase had started. A quick scan of the area revealed that a few Gretchin had stayed behind, and were in the process of carrying the still-stunned Fumbles down from his perch on the pile. Nubby, not being one to do hard work himself when others seemed were willing to do it for him, pulled out a lho stick and casually waited for the Gretchin to finish before gunning them down. Then, his heroic rescue completed, the little trooper wandered over to Fumbles and checked the psyker's status by prodding him in the ribs a few times. When this elicited nothing more than a faint groan Nubby, muttering to himself about how he always had to do everything, grabbed one of Fumbles legs and began dragging the psyker back towards the Daemonthrope crater.

Meanwhile, Twitch was barely staying ahead of the Weirdboy, who'd started emitting some sort of brilliant, crackling energy that boosted the speed of it and its minions. It really was something out of the paranoid trooper's nightmares: Gretchin kept popping out of side-alleys before he could turn into them, and every time he hit a straightaway the Weirdboy's hand-truck gained a little ground. The fear just lent Twitch even more speed though, and anyway, he had a plan. Mind you, it lacked the large amount of explosives that would make it a GOOD plan in his eyes, but it was still a plan.

>> No.46582211

Thanks for the laughs, senpai. Never change.

>> No.46582223


On the outskirts of the minor war occurring in the middle of the evidence warehouse, a group of genestealer cultists finally finished off the Inquisitorial minions that had been keeping them from the cell that contained their master. They clustered around the cell door and began hacking at it with their claws and weapons, but paused at the sound of approaching footsteps and turned to face the new threat.

Twitch came around the corner at a dead sprint, saw the group of mutated cultists, sighted on an alley on the far-right side of their group, closed his eyes, and triggered the under-barrel flash grenade launcher on his pulse-carbine. He barreled into the stunned cultists, knocking two aside with his shoulders and nearly tripping over a third, and somehow managed to push his way through them to the alley he had targeted, where he slammed head-first into a crate. Twitch reeled backwards, barely dodged a falling crate marked "CLASS-5 FORBIDDEN XENOTECH", and staggered into the alley before any of the cultists could follow. Behind him there was a high-pitched "WAAAGH" and the distinctive sound of a warp-propelled hand-truck slamming through bodies like a demented war-chariot.

There was a split second where Twitch worried that he'd under-estimated the Weirdboy's momentum and the xenos would just bowl through the cultists and keep chasing, but then he hear a horrible *schlorp* sound and a bellow of: "YOUZ GETS A SQUIGGIN, AND YOUZ GETS A SQUIGGIN, AND YOUS GETS A SQUIGGIN, EVERYONE GETS A ZOGGIN SQUIGGIN." With that, Twitch declared the plan a success, and began working his way towards the Daemonthrope crater. After a minute or so he ran into Nubby, who complained that he was tired of dragging Fumbles and insisted Twitch take a turn. Fumbles groaned and asked whether he could be carried upright, since the floor was really beginning to chafe.

The three of them arrived back at the crater just in time to see Doc get stabbed in the face.

>> No.46582246



>> No.46582256

>The three of them arrived back at the crater just in time to see Doc get stabbed in the face.

>> No.46582258

No! Doc

>> No.46582266


>> No.46582271

>Doc get stabbed in the face.

>> No.46582293


>> No.46582316

My god. This ork psyker could merit his very own deathwatch campaign.

"We've identified an ork psyker who's fond of turning his enemies into squigs, but is otherwise relatively harmless. You must isolate and capture this xenos for inquisitorial study."

>> No.46582317


>> No.46582327

Guys, Nubby's been cut in half before. Rupert's lost at least one of his arms (I didn't finish my archive dive before we started, but I think it's 2). A facestab just means a kickass cyborg eye for Doc!

>> No.46582347

A cliffhanger isn't RIGHT without at least 10 replies yelling "NO" and "PANIC".

>> No.46582349

He's gunna live you idiots. Shoggy already told us earlier this chapter that he ranted about the Space Marine Apothacary "For months afterward"

>> No.46582350

No they aren't. But none of them are going to sleep with Sarge, now are they?

>> No.46582354

Okay, I think I'm going to stop for now on that rather-ominous note. Not because I'm a bastard, but because I don't actually have the Doc/Tink part finished yet. (it's only short by 2 or 3 posts, but I'm starting fade here)

I think what I'm going to do is crank those out in the morning, see how far through Sarge/Aimy I can get, then just post whatever I got at 6 tomorrow. I doubt that I'll manage to get the massive fuckign exposition dump finished by that point, so a third posting on Friday or Sat will probably be needed, but I'd like to finish the action.

It was only a scalpel, don't panic. Save that for tomorrow.

>> No.46582365

Or he could have been lying to get more surprised reactions so he could become a ork

I'm on to you shoggy

>> No.46582371

save the panic for tomorrow

>> No.46582377

Coffee you double nigger.

>> No.46582379

>save that for tomorrow

>> No.46582384

Oh, and feel free to ask questions or bitch at me for being a tease. I'll probably be up for another 15ish minutes while I clean up the debris.

>> No.46582389


>> No.46582394

You glorious bastard. Sleep well.

(Pity I don't have chapter 2 of the All Cogboy Party remotely near done, or even framed out yet. We came face-to-face with Blue's nemesis: a crane!)

>> No.46582395

Tomorrow is gonna be so slow now waiting for this

>> No.46582398

I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER get sick of this. Anyone who proclaims this story TL:DR must be purged immediately.

>> No.46582401

Will Sarge and Aimy be a couple?

>> No.46582403


You're a tease.

>> No.46582413

Well, shit. PANIC!
Sleep well, you magnificent bastard. Thanks again for sharing your stories.

>> No.46582418

My question was asked previous, but it was:

Do you remember the template you used to make dozens of meatshield guardsmen during your Only War campaign? I'm interested in the process.

>> No.46582423

Your not shoggy your a ork kommando in disguise shoggy wouldn't tease us like that

>> No.46582443

He has before. Why would he stop now?

>> No.46582446

Sarge and Aimy will not be a couple. They're too cynical to believe a marriage would work in the inquisition.

>> No.46582455

>save the panic for tomorrow

>it hasn't even begun

>> No.46582456


Did your GM plan a lot of stuff out, or was he the "fuck notes, we're going improv" type?

>> No.46582467

Not like this thou it's always been some big event end or something stupid end never something panic inducing end

>> No.46582468

They are going to hate-fuck at least once.

>> No.46582510

I killed another thread.

I am the true monster.

>> No.46582536

What are the party's guardsman specialties? I mean, Doc and Sarge are pretty damn obvious, and I feel like Tink might be an Operator, but what about the rest? Just weapon specialists?

Also, somewhat unrelated, do you actually know what class of ship the Occurrence Border was before its various horrible manglings?

>> No.46582537

Did you try to swipe weapons off the inquisitorial goons/warehouse contents/anything? It seems like a warehouse that large would be real difficult to handle without nigh-infinite GM prep.

>> No.46582542


>> No.46582579

Relax, it'll be done.

>> No.46582594

No idea what to use for robed torsos that size. How are you at sculpting?
Good taste. Especially with salami, extra sharp cheddar, and freshly sliced pickles.
You son of a bitch. When you die, may the Immortal Emperor judge you unworthy.
So make one. I'm not sure she's on par with a fucking Temple Assassin, though.
Just like the girls in Tink's heretical cartoons!

>> No.46582647

>>>46580213 (You)
>Just like the girls in Tink's heretical cartoons!

Oh god, now I'm imagining TINK trying to hit on Aimy...
In the process, managing to creeper so hard that Sister Valerie and Hannah show up to help her administer a blunt-force castration.

>> No.46582696

That's a shame, I'd like to hear how that worked out, was afraid it just died after the first game.

Signs point to maybe.

Thanks for reading them.

Ummm, I honestly just wrote names on them and let the DM's calculator take care of the stats. It's really better if you ask him, I know he's helped a few people set up a similar thing to our first sessions, so he'll probably be happy to hand over whatever details you need if you ask. The only real place to find him (unless you hand out in high-country Colorado) is at /u/failer10 on reddit.

It's become a jumble of houserules that leaves us halfway between DH, OW, and DH2, but I'll do the best to explain that I can. Tink is an Operator, except with no implant and a few techpriest skills. Aimy is just a fairly min-maxed sniper, nothing too interesting there. Twitch is just a normal guardsman with every demolitions talent he can get, then there's some houseruling about his paranoia and trapping. Nubby is cross-specced into scum, and there's a houserule about him rolling requisitions. Cutter, Crisp, and Heavy never ventured out of the basic guardsman template.

I'm not going to talk about swiping till the chapter ends, because there's some stuff going on with it. As for the warehouse and the prep involved, our DM is a bit of a crazy bastard when it comes to laying plans, but he didn't actually map the whole warehouse. From what I saw he had about a dozen section maps, as well as a basic layout for us to fast travel along. If you want the hard details you gotta hunt him down, its been too long and its too late for me to remember much in the way of non-story details.

>> No.46582698


Thread has been archived.

>> No.46582714

>Signs point to maybe.

>> No.46582723

Hey Shoggy, have you seen this?

You should consider sending something in.

>> No.46582729

>every book begins with "So no shit, there we were."

>> No.46582732

>That's a shame, I'd like to hear how that worked out, was afraid it just died after the first game.

Oh, no, we're still playing. It's just that we're a chat game, so things don't go so smooth all the time.

Our last session was last night. It took us the whole session to advance 20m down a corridor and shut a door behind us.

>> No.46582805

Also, my time is kind of stretched, since I'm preparing to run a Starcraft game. There is a Starcraft RPG, a fully-homebrewed, very, very heavily modified d20 variant. I spent ALL WEEK modifying the weapon rules and making new ones.

>> No.46582855

I don't know about that, but between them all he's probably written a small novel's worth, and is certainly on par with some BL-published stuff. And better fluff than some, or even most.

>> No.46582891

>Our last session was last night. It took us the whole session to advance 20m down a corridor and shut a door behind us.
God Emperor, I know your pain.

>> No.46582948

I wouldn't worry about capping, it's not like there's any need to spam other threads with massive caps of these, so suptg and the archive I maintain should be fine.

Thanks anon.

I sent in a section from THE BOX (because I couldn't justify writing something fresh when I'm this behind) and got:
>Unfortunately, your submission has not reached required standards, and therefore we will not be taking your current application any further. We felt that the tone does not fit what we are looking for.
Which is fair enough all things considered.

I'll make a serious try to contact them or another publisher once I finish everything and polish it up, but I honestly doubt BL will ever touch these. Maybe if there was like a massive fan-push for it or something, but I find that highly unlikely.

Ah, that's always an issue, it's why I've never gotten into online games myself. Hope you guys find time to post again though.

hahahhahahaha...... small novel.....
The current word count is at 251808. That's over half as long as the lord of the rings trilogy. God help me, I never intended for this to happen.

>> No.46582975

In fairness, there's a reason it took that long. Someone opened a hatch they shouldn't have, for reasons which are best left unexplained, and then shit happened, and we tried to close the hatch. It worked!... Temporarily.

>Ah, that's always an issue, it's why I've never gotten into online games myself. Hope you guys find time to post again though.

We're actually about halfway through the third "chapter," play-wise, it's just that I've been seriously slacking on writing up the storytime.

>> No.46583010

>> No.46583342

Waited so long for this!

>> No.46583468

Oh hell
With a species as vicious as the Rak'gol, that might actually be even worse.
The Inquisition does, occasionally, get shit done, particularly Radicals like the one who must have run this place until New Dead Guy shut it down.
>and Twitch's stockpile of explosives down to just his backup-backup grenade and mine
I think you're missing a 'was' in there, boss.
>Brother Bellicus of the Dark Templars
Black Templars.
Hopefully these nitpicks save you some effort in editing.
Considering that their implants and armour only combine to a +20 Awareness and their Perception ranges from 32-50 before Advancement... The Templar can't have been capable of more than 7 DoS on the opposed test to notice, and that's assuming he rolls perfectly. Plus, given his Chapter, I doubt Perception is one of his higher characteristics. RAW as I recall them, Nubby would just need to beat the Marine's Awareness, but Shoggy's group have some houserules in play.
>a group of servitors and prisoners led by something that looked like a human except with the size and musculature of an Ork Warboss
No, Blue, you can't Elite an Aura of Pilfering.
Ugh, disgusting. Good thing it's all slated for purging.
>(the Sidle being the form of movement which best conveys "I am not part of this, please ignore me and go about your business/argument/murder")
It's the little things that make this story great. Well, also the big things, but that was funny.
Does it really matter what name the Adminstratum stamps at the top of their requisition forms?
>Penny Arcade
No, Anon. You are the daemons.
>the bolt of lighting the Eldar flung
edit: lightning
>Veteran Guardsman
Pick one and only one.
They... Might mean 'too long; Did read'? They're probably heretics anyway, though. Innocence proves nothing.

>> No.46583750


>> No.46583777


To be fair, Ivan didn't /open/ the hatch.

He just saw a creepy shadowy tendrily type thing start coming out to reach for Blue, had seen enough Arbitratratess Foreboding vids to know what was coming, and then proceeded to hit it and the hatch most vociferously with a percussion mallet.

On the positive side, the tendril was pummeled to a fare-thee-well! On the negative side, the hatch kind of, well, cracked.

How was Ivan supposed to know hitting a metal surface nine or ten times with what's basically a mini-thunder hammer/power maul would break it?

Slipshod construction, that's what it was. Definitely not up to Omnissiah-approved code. I blame the ship designers.

>> No.46583831


>That alone is exceptionally impressive since they are not only nasty to deal with, but there has also never been a live capture.

So far as the Inquisition WANTS us to think...

>> No.46584229

Who said anything about marriage?>>46582975
Eh, we are moving pretty slow. Don't worry too much about it.
No, before that. Though to be fair others had the same idea too.
It's not like they have a centralized command structure. Who knows what fringe Inquisitors have pulled off without telling anyone?

Thread's autosaging and on page 9. I guess we can look forward to a new one in the morning when Shoggy gives us the thrilling conclusion.
And you, fuck you.

>> No.46584249

You mean hunt Old Zogwart?

>> No.46584659

Nubby confirmed for Blood Raven aspirant

>> No.46584728

>>>46580823 (You)
>No, Blue, you can't Elite an Aura of Pilfering.

How'd you know it was me?

>> No.46584754

Nah, he's a little too craven.
Blood Ravens are just as at home kicking in the door, boltering down all the heretics, and taking their stuff, as they are nicking something and running like they nicked something.

Nubby'd rather let other people do that first bit.

>> No.46585130

Leaving a footprint in this thread just for the hell of it. Don't mind me.
I'm still late to the party. All Guardsmen Party.

>> No.46585176

There's no party like an all guardsman party!

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