Welcome to the Guard!

Game Master Swordwhale

Warhammer 40k - Only War game. Tribute game to the famous 'All Guardsmen Party'.
Tactical-Map|| Shared notebook


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Currently: Being a Turret

Thud nods and turns back to the group. That'll be fixed now. Hey Eltee! Wants me to come with ya for da gettin' stuffs? I can carry it!


Leni Tivnan Medic BS32 WS25 S29 A28 T25 I63 Will32 Fel30 Per26 Hp15/15 Fate2/2+1 Ins0 Cor7 30/30 4spare

Leni grins at the display the Orgryns are making. Still while fun it is a bit of the hasle right this moment because it drowns out any conversation the could've had.
Still, ever the pragmatic type she shrugs and instead scribles down two notes - she had pen and paper around anyway to get that requisition list going - handing one to Grox and slipping the other to the Handler of the other squad. She then enters their own chimera to take a look what medical facilities are still left in it. And medical supplies.

Grox:

I can't throw to save my life, or others for that matter. I prefer doing that with medkit in hand. Hit me up when you run out of 'nades out there I'll let you have mine

Orgryn Handler:

Any idea how to get hazmat equip for the big'uns? The stuff the squad gets won't even cover their massive biceps. Find me once your impromptu sermon is done please.


Throwing a big thumbs up and grin at Leni, Grox taps Dreamer on the shoulder, points to the two of them and pretends to fire a tube, before putting a bit of space between them and the ogryns. When he can raise his voice to be heard, he shouts in Dreamer's ear. " Go on then, show us the basics, whilst we wait. I'll leave it to you if I can, but you never know! I might at least be able to load for you"


Enginseer

Duct quite cheerfully spent some time examining the three chimaeras, interfacing with each in turn and pronouncing them fit for service. The observant might note that he took significantly longer to deliver this verdict for squad three's chimaera, his efforts punctuated by the occasional crackle of binary.

This done, he put in a request for some additional gear before finding a spot to stand and observe the comings and goings of the soldiers. Vehicle maintenance aside, he didn't immediately see any tasks requiring his expertise (certainly not ogryn-wrangling).


Currently: Being a Turret

Thud accompanies the LT on his little shopping trip and when they come back Thud's foot falls sound... heavier.
His favored melee weapons are strapped to his back in quick-release harnesses. The Ogryn Shield is an unremarkable piece of kit. It's literally a piece of tank armor with a handle and and a couple braces welded on. But in infantry combat its effectiveness at repelling small arms fire in unquestioned. AP20 can shelter up to 4 additional men behind Thud
The Evicerator is a weapon that is quickly becoming regimental legend beside Pete's Meltagun that went critical and took out an Ork Mechboss. It's temperamental and literally has a mind of it's own as to when it'll actually start up, but a 2 meter long sword is still a fearsome thing to be reckoned with regardless of whether the teeth are spinning.
His Ripper is hanging across his chest. The signature weapon of the Ogryn is essentially a large combat shotgun, but the pellets it fires are the size of grapes and are known to make large quantities of chunky salsa out of the enemy at close range.
What really garners attention, tough, are his new addition. Instead of hastily pulled together flak armor, Thud is now sporting a Carapace chest-plate that actually fits! The newly installed plates even have fresh paint! On his shoulders are the symbol of the Ministorum and his unit "Thud'dr/Serenus 1st 2-2-1". His robes and rosarius are over this, of course, and his Emprah's Picture Book still hangs on its thick chain around his waist, so he's still unmistakable as a priest.

He carries with him two large munitions bags marked "Thud stuffs" which he quickly stores in the Chimera away from sight. The chimera's suspension actually dips a bit when they're deposited.


Male Brawler WS 47, BS 34, S 41, T 52, Ag 32, Int 30, Per 26, WP 38, Fel 39, Wounds 16/16, FP 2/4

Cormaeg himself walks in front of Thud, running a hand through his beard as he mutters to himself.

"Hmmph.
What a surprising turnout.
Despite all the talk about the abundance of missiles, they seemed to have none.
At the same time, they had a lot of Carapace armour...
I wonder if that means they had a large number of casualties amongst the Skitarii?"


"Looks like Thud'dr had the right idea, without rockets these're just over-sized clubs"

Hoisting one of the local launchers to his shoulder, Cuthbert runs through the rudiments of its operation for Grox

"Not had any field experience with these. But the basic principles apply. Point this end at something big. Brace the thing, preferably resting it on something solid. Say the word 'ease', I'm told it stops your head exploding from the pressure. Then a gentle compression of the trigger spoon like so. That's about all I can give you on short notice. You won't be very accurate."

He reaches for his own gear and removes a much more slimline tube.

"I'll be using this when I can. I can load her myself but I can keep up a higher rate of fire, when needed, with support. I'll carry fresh rockets in a sling when we're on foot, they just slide in here, and that rune primes the tube."


"Cheers Dreamer, like I said, hopefully I'll just leave it to you, but we all know how badly things can go wrong, and it might just come in handy. Luckily this fist of mine is pretty good for smashing up even armoured things, I just need to get close enough."


During the quite successful supply run - the local Mechanicus supply depot servitors being surprisingly helpful for mindwiped creations - Cormaeg and Thud'dr return to a fully assembled platoon.

While they were gone Smith eventually comes to see Leni. He appears to be suffering from a quite serious case of ringing ears and falls heavily onto a seat of the MedEvac after a casual salute.
"You wanted a word, Sarge? Speak loud though, I've been to less noisy artillery strikes than those two singing..."


Male Brawler WS 47, BS 34, S 41, T 52, Ag 32, Int 30, Per 26, WP 38, Fel 39, Wounds 16/16, FP 2/4

Hmm, I did not req anything for myself did I?
Just as well, I feel I pushed my luck as far as I was willing already.
Also, what would I get? A spare sword?
I've got a power sword already.
Armour? Got my Storm trooper gear.

Looking around, Cormaeg nods in approval, everything looked ready by now.
A little melancholy did creep into his mood again, as he felt slightly superfluous to requirements at the moment.
Still, he was meant to be the glue that held it all together, and so he would.


Male Brawler WS 47, BS 34, S 41, T 52, Ag 32, Int 30, Per 26, WP 38, Fel 39, Wounds 16/16, FP 2/4

"OI!
You lot!
Time for final check in. We're to be ready to depart in 15 minutes.
I want all Sergeants to have their squads squared away their gears, the pilots to have taken their places and warmed up the engines, and all troopers lined up, ready to board.
Again, we're departing in 15, which means YOU are to be ready in 10!
Hop to it!"

He then turns to the vox to give an official reply.
"Lieutenant Cormaeg MacCammon reporting in.
2nd Battalion, 2nd Platoon, squads one through three, reporting final checks.
Will be ready by designated departure time."


Currently: Being a Turret

Thud hears the command and takes his spot by the chimera. He's going to be first in after the steery guys because he's going to be in the empty turret position. But to get there he's going to have to face DA DARK. Not much of it, but still. No matter what he said to this Bruvas, DA DARK would never loose its hold. Not completely. It was like staring down a Ice Worm next. Death and loneliness dwelt there. But there was light in the turret. His implant beeps and flickers lights, suppressing certain synapses and enhancing others. He feels a song to the Emprah, a hymn of bravery in his mind. He can do this. He can do this...


Currently: Being a Turret

He checks that his two huge munitions bags are in place within reach of the turret where he's thrown them. Yes? Good. He was going to need those. In one was his Heavy Stubber and ammo he'd managed to get out of the Armory without anyone asking why. The second was the weapon the Eltee had gotten. Somehow. The thought of slamming the huge Mauler Cannon up on the bracing points of the turret and going to town was enough to send a shiver down the spine.


The Lieutenant's shout cuts through the general chaos and Grox finishes clipping up the last catches on his carapace, "Damn it feels good to have proper solid plates on again" .[b]"Right Dreamer, we best get on our ride, otherwise we'll be walking AND facing a balling out from the sergeant" Grabbing his gear, Grox heads for the chimera, stowing his kit, taking the hot seat by the door and then commencing final checks on his weapons.


Leni Tivnan Medic BS32 WS25 S29 A28 T25 I63 Will32 Fel30 Per26 Hp15/15 Fate2/2+1 Ins0 Cor7 30/30 4spare

Orgyn Handler, a bit earlier:

Leni grins at that, but doesn't mind - the chimera will keep their talk to themselves if it turns out that "yeah nothing we can do about that" is they to go about that. Also a good reason not to mind him ploping down without waiting for a word.
She tries to speak loud, but not quite shout so people outside would hear it.
"Right, specialist Smith. Its about our big friends and this mission. You've seen the gear? None of them are going to fit into hazmat gear. And at least Thud is going to be at the very front. If something toxic is gonna hit then he'll take it head on. Do you have any suggestions what to do for them, being a seasoned Orgryn handler."

Leni just finished packing the medkits into the chimera when Cormaegs call for final assembly comes. She long since changed into her light carapace, as soon as she got it in fact. So she leaves the Chimera and opens the rear hatch so everyone can get in. Then stands next to it and shouts: "Lt says 10 so you have 8. Move move move!"


Ogryn Handler Talk:

Smith nods thoughtfully.

"Yeah, I saw those suites. Does anyone expect anyone to fight in these things? They are pretty damn thin and at the same time have those huge gloves with which you lose pretty much any semblance of fine motor skills. Not even sure whether I could reload my lasgun without dropping the charge pack three times. Even besides the size issue, I'd not wager for our big friends to keep them intact for more than a few moments..."

He trails off, poking his ears with a cybernetic pinky-finger you just noticed for the first time.

"Ah, the quiet in here is nice. Anyway... poison stuff, well, for one those biggies are tough as nails. Never known any of them to be sick or ill. We went through a chemical waste station back in that Hive on Junathan together. I had a respirator and was careful - but ended up in the infirmary for two weeks with bad fever and allergic reactions. Those two? Went splashing hip-deep through whatever and never had a running nose so far as I know. But proper chemical warfare... I don't know, Miss. Maybe those cogboys could rig together extra large respirators? Maybe we could get a few square meters of that cloth the Kriegers wear - I've heard they are at least somewhat resistant to chems and rad - then stitch it into something like a big old cape so they are at least somewhat covered?"

After a moment consideration, he adds:

"Isn't there some kind of drug that can help them get over it? I'd guess they will be able to get through quite a bit before really starting to feel it. Maybe long enough to last a fight and to get drugged up with an antidote or something afterwards?"

+++ Now +++
Having several squads line up ready to board their chimeras is quite a sight to behold. And this is repeated throughout the vast hold, as the entire 2nd Battalion is getting ready to depart.

Thick engine smoke is rising from nearly one hundred IFVs kick-starting and warming up - to be sucked away by large venting shafts set into the ceiling.

Hymnals to the Omnissiah, the motive force and the machine spirits are blasting from wall-mounted vox speakers and through the vox grills of uncounted maintenance servitors ploughing the rows and ranks of vehicles.

Regimental priests with incense burners chanting benedictions and blessings walk the ranks of guardsman.

Running troopers fetch and stow away the last odds and ends while being bawled at by their Sergeants.

Commissars stalk through the rank and file, stern gazes searching for infractions or lapses in pre-mission protocols, occasionally giving "advice" or a short speech, mostly regarding duty to the Emperor and humanity or glorious deeds and deaths that show Mr. Traitor what's what.

Then, all vox speakers suddenly stop playing Mechanicus hymnals and the somewhat distorted voice of Colonel Daan echoes through the chamber.

"Troopers of second Battalion!
Guardsman of his divine Majesty.
On this day, we have the honor of participating in a battle to end a war older than everyone in your squad put together.
With our arrival, the precarious stalemate that has kept this noble forge from fulfilling its destiny for far too long, could finally be tipping in the Emperor's favor.
Today, the high Tacticae Council has mobilized all reserves to muster an offensive of a scale unseen since the earliest years of this century old war.
Our goal is to punch through the static defenses of the trencheworks and push into the occupied town of Rockworks a mere twenty kilometers behind the nominal Frontline. By the God Emperor's grace, we shall establish a beachhead there to allow the following infantry to advance deep into enemy territory.
Keep formation, keep up the momentum and keep the Emperor at your hearts and we shall win this day in his name."


Currently: Being a Turret

As the prosessions drift past Thud's implant starts flickering and occasionally beeping at him. Suddenly some connection in his head is made and Thud gasps. He looks nervous, like a kid who forgot his homework. The implant chirps again and he ducks to reach inside the chimera. He's back a moment later with a sensor and incense. He strides to the front of the group, spots a hand flamer and snatches it from a very surprised soldier. One small burst of promethium is enough to light the entire sensor on fire. And some of the incense too!
With a smelly fireball on a chain in one hand and his Book in the other (held very far apart) Thud gives his sermon which is just showing up in his head as he speaks.
Men o'da Emprah!
Where there is an enemy, rage!
Where there is a victory, rejoice!
Do not shirk! Do not falter!
Give them death in the name of Da Emprah!
If the road is easy, the destination is worthless.
Lay a fire within your soul and another between your hands, and let both be your weapons.
For one is faith and the other is victory and neither may ever be put out!

He raises his sensor further. The promethium dies out slowly, leaving pure incense too fill the ranks. He walks among them, spreading the smoke around. He has no idea why. More words come, to his shock,
Today you will be the Hammer of da Emprah! The instrument if his Holy Will! No more lines to hold forever! No more attritional meat-grinder! Today we Ride! Let them fear our coming!


Male Brawler WS 47, BS 34, S 41, T 52, Ag 32, Int 30, Per 26, WP 38, Fel 39, Wounds 16/16, FP 2/4

Our glorious leader...
I'm not high enough on the food chain to have gotten to know him, so I can't really say how much of that I believe or not.
It's a decent enough speech though, and when facing the archenemy, morale is important.

Cormaeg checks the straps of his gear, makes sure that his sword is nicely in place, and walks to the front of the squads.

Should say something myself, it's traditional I believe.

"Soldiers, you heard the colonel.
We, the Serenus 1st, is still a fairly new regiment, and while we have a major victory under our belts, it is so far the only one.
Today, we begin an operation, which if successful, may get us written into the lore of this world, and give us further laurels."

"We're already a somewhat mixed regiment, as we took on significant reinforcements from the last planet, and we may end up with more from this world as well in the end."

"As far as I am concerned, if you stand in line with us, you are a brother or sister, no matter where you came from originally.
We are the imperial guard!
We Stand!
We fight!
We bleed!
AND WE WIN!
NOTHING ELSE IS ACCEPTABLE!
NOW LET ME HEAR IT!"


Enginseer

Perhaps surprisingly, Duct joined in the chant with the rest. Though he did stop short of declaring himself a part of the Imperial Guard. At some point, a servo-skull had floated into the room and perched itself on his shoulder, no doubt summoned by the tech-priest in some manner.

The plan was certainly ambitious, given the way the war had dragged on. But when he considered the arrival of the Guard, he couldn't help but see the hand of the Omnissiah at work. It gave him hope that, for a time at least, the darkness might be pushed back.

"We Stand!
We fight!
We bleed!
AND WE WIN!"


Nearly thirty voices of varying volume, modulation accent give response in what appears to be honest enthusiasm and martial zeal.
The Ogryns response, naturally, being the loudest and least modulated, barely more than a wordless roar.
Then it is time to board and get ready to move out.
Drivers and their Co-Pilots get into their respective seats and perform last pre-battle checks (for the third or so time) while everyone else is getting to their seats and strap into the crash webbing after stowing their gear.

And then...
Then there is waiting.

Distant grumbling of vehicles can be felt through the thick armor as a vibration more than proper sound but second company has to wait its turn, while the vehicles of first company are rumbling up a steep ramp at the end of the hangar bay in single file.

Platoon Commands Channel (Leni&Cormaeg):

"Stone for Lieutenant: How's our marching order?"


Male Brawler WS 47, BS 34, S 41, T 52, Ag 32, Int 30, Per 26, WP 38, Fel 39, Wounds 16/16, FP 2/4

Command Channel:
"For now, Pearl will lead, ready to deploy dozer blade at the first sign of mines, Piglet will cover the left flank, one length back, and the Medivac will take the rear."


Leni Tivnan Medic BS32 WS25 S29 A28 T25 I63 Will32 Fel30 Per26 Hp15/15 Fate2/2+1 Ins0 Cor7 30/30 4spare

Leni is in the front seat of the Chimera, right next to the door leading into the driver compartment. Since Cormaegs command is broadcasted on the com chan only she tunes into the squad vox and relies it: "We're last in line. Stay behind the other two."

She then turns to the rest of the troopers, but still talks on the squad vox. Not everyone is in the hold and chimera rumbling is loud.

"Alright everyone, we're on our way. You heard the Bigswigs about the major offensive but let's talk about what's interesting to us now. First the cool stuff: Very soon now the earth is going to start shaking. You don't have to worry about that those are our guys. Notably a bunch of knights and a honest to god godmachine of the mechanicus. You may feel honored now because we're supporting it close enough that we have specific orders to never leave our pretty lady while in the shadow of the big gun.
Now to the less cool stuff: You probably noticed that you got handed a breather with your gear this time around. Don't know if you noticed but THEIR side of the planet his horribly diseased and sludgy and we're going deep into their territory if everything does as planned. So be wary of smoke and vapors and use that thing early. We also got 3 suits if we have to wade into bad stuff for some reasons but they'll break if we wear them into combat. So let's keep them in storage until we need them.
Now if worse comes to worst then I snagged us a bunch of detox pills. They'll flush out all the bad stuff but you'll feel like s*@+ in exchange. I'll probably be able to help you with that but let's try to not need it in the first place, aye?
As for this mission - I'll show you where the fun is and as long as you leave enough pieces of yourself lying around that I can find them then I'll sew you back together afterwards. So make sure to come to me while their is still sewing to be done. Then this should be a fun ride into the bad neighborhood of town."


Currently: Being a Turret

Thud enters the Chimera and immediately goes straight for the hole in the roof where the turret was and where men on stretchers can be lifted. Thankfully that space is made for a turret and Thud doesn't upset the balance of the vehicle riding there too much. He can't hear Mama Leni's speech directly where he is, so he relies on the vox bead in his ear. Her stern, direct talk is a comfort to his soul. He words like rocks kneading out the nervous knots in his gut.
That's not to say he understands everything she's saying. He never has. She likes words a lot. Especially ones that get ya moving. He gets that the earth will shake soon. That makes sense. Not a battle has happened yet where the earth didn't shake. And that he shouldn't get out until told. That wasn't so good. Hopefully he wouldn't have to get out. Smoke and vipers are bad. No idea what vipers are, but he'll look for smoke. Also not sure what Tox pills are, but if Mama give, Thud eats, so no worries there.
All in all a good talk. He pounds the top of the chimera. START DA FUN! He roars. His right arm disappears into the compartment for a moment and draws out the Eltee's prezzie. It's two M36 autocannons smashed together onto a reinforced frame with a triple harness support that Thud clips onto his new Carapace chest-plate and slams into a brace on the roof. A Mauler Cannon. He howls into the roar of the company's motor pool and laughs.
If yer heart beats like a drum,
and yer leg’s a little wet,
it’s because the Guard has come
t'collect a little debt!

modified quote: Sevro au Barca, Red Rising book


Dreamer takes the other door 'seat,' opposite Grox. Once he is perched on what is optimistically called the 'seat' he begins his 'checks' each and every item he carries is touched in turn and mentally checked off. Spare las-clips, 1-2-3-4, check. Grenades, smoke: 1-2-3, krak: 1-2, Frag: 1-2. the count goes on...

As he finishes, the last two items are the most obvious, his personal rocket tube is hung in a rack next to him, ready to arm at a moment's notice. Lastly his las, a shorter frame than the others in the squad, with what almost looks like a custom folding stock. Dreamer is careful not to catch anyone's eye as he arms the weapon and takes his final position.

Seconds later the sound of the revving engines, the shouted orders, even the Ogryn's bellows seem to fade into the background. Like Dreamer is underwater. Replaced by a repeating tap of metal on metal, louder and louder, a woodpecker on his skull. His rifle is vibrating in his hands taping on the metal frame of the chimera. Just when he can't bear the deafening noise anymore he shifts and the tapping abruptly stops.

His hands are still shaking. No-one else seems to have heard the deafening noise. Then the voice comes.

Into hell again"Death claims the unwary or the incomplete. you will watch them all die as you have watched before "A true man may flinch away its embrace..." You can do nothing. you are nothing. "...if he is stalwart, and he girds his soul with the armour of contempt."
"The emperor protects!"

The voice is silenced once again, Cuthbert takes strength from his benediction. It is not fear, he knows that, it is doubt and truth be told, experience. His hands are now rock steady.


At last, you hear the Chimera's engine revving and "Speaker" is announcing:

"The first Battalion has departed, just waiting for first platoon to get in swing then it's us. Strap in and keep tight - I guess this will be a bumpy ride."

Moments later, the chimera jerks into motion and you are on the move. Soon, you feel the sudden shift into a steep incline and then back into the horizontal. Then, quite unexpectedly there is a strong vertical upward acceleration, similar to a high-speed elevator aboard a void ship.

"Whew!", the whistling voice of Pvt. "Lost" Bundles your Co-Pilot comes over the intercom.

"Now THAT'S an elevator. Thirty Chimeras in one go and with room to spare."

It takes only a minute then it slows and stops with equal force. Your transports get into motion moments later and the ride gets more shaky, as if you were traversing over somewhat uneven ground.

"In case you wonder, we're going through trenches now. Never saw ones so broad.", your driver continues.

This section of the travel takes nearly an hour. After fifty minutes of it, the ground and with it the vehicle starts to shake and shudder from what can only be the onset of heavy artillery barrages.

Command Net:

"Commencing wide-spread artillery barrage."

"One-One-One is reaching staging ground."

"One-Four-Two is seeing those Mechanicus spider tanks forming up close by."

"Has anyone seen the Titan yet?"

"Two-One-One: we have heard it but no visual yet. Sounds damn impressive though, by the Omnissiah."

Tension grows and builds only higher in the remaining ten minutes it takes your "Speaker" to get you to your designated staging ground.

"There we are, ladies and gentlemen ... and Ogryn. A nice little ramp up the trench for our platoon all to ourselves. Man, those Kriegers really know how to dig trenches. Hey Eltee, hows our approach looking once we get over that crest. My orders are to floor it and head straight through the enemy lines but ... that seems to be a rather more abstract and high-level view than I like to operate on. Any obstacles I should be aware of?"

Navigate Surface -20, Aiding possible:

With some effort, you manage to find the proper high-resolution image of your assigned area and figure out the symbolic overlays and figured out how to filter out all outdated (sometimes downright ancient) icons and height lines you manage to get a properly readable map of the immediate area.

At the end of the short, steep ramp out of the second line trench you currently are in, is a short fifty meter strip of no man's land including two large artillery craters and a trio of tank stoppers firmly embedded in the ground, requiring tanks to circle around right in the middle of it. Then there are two possible crossings over the front trench, allowing single file crossing of tanks, then after another thirty meters double line of badly corroded and damaged razor wire fence and then about one kilometer of open kill ground between the imperial and enemy trencheworks. Along your approach path you note at least ten destroyed vehicle hulks and a handful of major craters that would best be circumvented if you wanted to keep your momentum.

Overall, not exactly open ground at all and to make maximum speed, you will need some proper driving and navigating as well formation keeping.


Male Brawler WS 47, BS 34, S 41, T 52, Ag 32, Int 30, Per 26, WP 38, Fel 39, Wounds 16/16, FP 2/4

Navigation Surface (Int -10): 1d100 ⇒ 17

"Sergeant, come and give me a hand here.
I've almost got it...."


Leni Tivnan Medic BS32 WS25 S29 A28 T25 I63 Will32 Fel30 Per26 Hp15/15 Fate2/2+1 Ins0 Cor7 30/30 4spare

"Aye Lt, let me check that..."

Aid Navigate Surface I63 -20 vs 43: 1d100 ⇒ 98

Leni looks at the map, just like she always did back at the base but all that rattling and with half her mind with the squad the lines and colors indicating height difference just don't want to register in her mind. She tries to focus on it for a moment but the concentration won't come.

"I... can't help you right now. It's supposed to make sense no problem but it just doesn't. Never had that happen before..."
She's genuinly at a loss


Male Brawler WS 47, BS 34, S 41, T 52, Ag 32, Int 30, Per 26, WP 38, Fel 39, Wounds 16/16, FP 2/4

Cormaeg looks at Leni with a touch of concern, but quickly goes back to the problem at hand, resolving to talk to her later in private.

"Ok, opening up to the floor, Anyone else think they can give me a hand here?"


Currently: Being a Turret

Thud is having a blast riding up in the free air. The land is just as blasted as he remembers, but somehow riding over it makes it less bad. It still smells of churned earth and smoke. The shells flying overhead drone on like a freight train in the sky. All we needs is lefty right ways, ya? he comments in an effort to help.


Male Brawler WS 47, BS 34, S 41, T 52, Ag 32, Int 30, Per 26, WP 38, Fel 39, Wounds 16/16, FP 2/4

Fate point +10

"Wait...hang on...Oh yes, here it is.
Right, listen up then pilot..."

Cormaeg relays the details he can make out, making sure to let Pearl know to use the dozer blade to clear the passage from the old wire.


"Understood, Eltee. That's a whole lot to keep in mind while maneuvering.
Sarge, could you get up front and lend "Lost" a hand with the map work? And you big lad up there, give us a good shout if something big or deep is dead ahead, will you?"

"Speaker" manages to sound both worried and confident in the same instance.

+++

Once in position, there is another twenty minute interval of nerve wrecking waiting during which more and more units report readiness and at the end of which you finally get the five minute to charge signal, almost immediately echoed by a not-so-distant warhorn making the Chimera's hull vibrate from infrasonic waves and which make your teeth rattle.

At the one minute mark, you feel the earth start to vibrate under slow but accelerating monumental footfalls and the nervous revving of the engine by your driver.

Thud'dr:

Instinctively turning back towards the sound of the warhorn, you not only see a pretty ,damn huge, vaguely humanoid shape striding towards you through the thick gunsmoke billowing over from the artillery trenches but also the distant outline of the heavily armoured flanks of the forge hive. Those just lit up like a bonfire as many-many handful of firery trails erupt from all over its armaments and rise up into the sky on trails of white smoke... And the trails seem to get ever closer to you. How strange is that?!


Currently: Being a Turret

Holy Emprah! Da Church is walkin' and da sky is fallin', guys! Hold on ya yer butts! Thud shouts down the hole. This is immidiately followed with a bellow out toward the enemy lines that can be heard even over the engines, Ready or Not! Here HE comes! He then keeps his eyes out for any holes big enough to swallow the chimera or ground that looks to rough to traverse, like the Cloud-snow that will swallow you or the Lying-Pack-Snow that crumbles in spite of looking solid.


Male Brawler WS 47, BS 34, S 41, T 52, Ag 32, Int 30, Per 26, WP 38, Fel 39, Wounds 16/16, FP 2/4

Fear test (Will +30): 1d100 ⇒ 68
On the money!

"Keep your cool everybody, we're about to enter the "fun" zone."


Will 41+30: 1d100 ⇒ 3

Years in the scholam have left Grox secure in the knowledge that if he can't see or do anything about it, then there is no point worrying about it! In fact he looks so relaxed that anymore so and he would be asleep.


Leni Tivnan Medic BS32 WS25 S29 A28 T25 I63 Will32 Fel30 Per26 Hp15/15 Fate2/2+1 Ins0 Cor7 30/30 4spare

Leni replies to "Speaker" with a clipped "aye", then unstraps and moves into the driver department, keeping the door open so she can keep an eye on the boys in the back.

I63: 1d100 ⇒ 50 still at -20? Then needs an FP, otherwise 2DoS
Having seen Cormaeg work the map the fog around Lenis tactical mind finaly lifts. She takes a quick look at the map, then gets to work with "Lost", keeping him from becoming lost. Still, unnoticed by her, but probably noticed by Lost, and maybe the active combead she lets out a little squeel of delight at finally having wrapped her mind around navigating on the ground.

Wil+30 vs 62: 1d100 ⇒ 33
Leni had ample time to prepare herself for the god machine walking. She's absolutely impressed, but not terrified. Not even fearful.


The war-horn blast catches the chimera and makes Drip jump. Rising out of his seat he sights down the rear facing lasgun to see what might be behind them

Fear+30(vs 62): 1d100 ⇒ 46

"Grox!" he gesticulates at his comrade implying he should take a look through the other hull mounted weapon.


" What, That noise is one of ours, the enemy stuff sounds different. Nothing to get your self in a twist over." Slowly moving to the other hull mounted lasgun he takes a look through the weapon sights, before letting out a low whistle
"It's a big'un that's for sure!


Enginseer

Fear, target 57: 1d100 ⇒ 89

For all his reverence for the god-machine, Duct lacked the shield of ignorance. He knew very well the kinds of forces such a machine could unleash, he knew the power that would be arrayed against it, and he knew that even a god-machine might fall, never to be replaced in this faded age they all inhabited.

He hunched over, clicking binaric litanies in a conscious effort to shore up his faith.


The heavy footfalls grow louder every second now and they are picking up speed too until it reaches a thunderous crescendo which makes the ground shudder.

Grox, Dreamer, Thud'dr:

The former distant shape is rapidly closing, revealing itself to be roughly the size of a three storey hab unit. Both its arms replaced by stupendously large, obviously ranged weaponry of some kind. It seems to be running straight towards you.

You now also note half a dozen smaller walkers accompanying the god machine - all of which seems to be carrying huge, glowing shields and something looking like a tank-length pole arm.

Suddenly, twenty-three seconds before the mark, "Piglet" suddenly lunges forward and a panicked shout over the platoon vox confirms their driver (among others?) having lost his cool.

"Oh Emperor, it will step right on us! We have to move right bloody now!"


Male Brawler WS 47, BS 34, S 41, T 52, Ag 32, Int 30, Per 26, WP 38, Fel 39, Wounds 16/16, FP 2/4

"Damnation! We're not off to a good start..."

Quickly getting on the horn, Cormaeg uses his most commanding voice.
"Piglet! Get back in formation right now!
The path we're taking is calculated so we WON'T be in the way of the war machines.
THINK dammit! THINK!"

Command (Fel +10): 1d100 ⇒ 12


The vox is dead silent for a second then one can just make out the hushed voice of someone else, probably the Co-Pilot going at the driver of "Piglet":

"Retaking position, Boss. Sorry for that. Piglet on standby."

T-12 seconds.
The looming and loping walkers have reached your waiting position...

T-10 seconds
...and then passed you with a massive leap that causes everyone to rock around in their restraints as the single godmachine and its fellow knights land heavily in no-man's-land, thus making the imperial offensive official.

T-6 seconds.
Overhead screeching and Sonic booms mark the passage of a heavy missile barrage.

T-2 seconds.
An entire squadron of four-legged, boxy Walker-Tanks with the Adeptus Mechanicus sigil embossed on front and rear armor scuddle over your trenchline just as your lead chimera is jerking into motion to begin its shirt but steep climb up the earthwork ramp.

T-0.
7:00 local time.
D-Day.
At last.

With a mighty jerk your chimera hurtles forward and up the 45 degree angled ramp and accelerates all the way up into a day, barely lit by the faint sun struggling to get through the billowing smoke and dust clouds rising from both sides of the Battleline, getting worse by the second as a forty kilometer section of the imperial line seems to spit out armoured vehicles or bring any and all available weaponry to bear on the distant, nearly invisible silhouettes of the enemy line.

Tracer fire already starts coming back, followed by the first lazy-looking trails of missiles and the sudden flashes of laser weaponry.


Male Brawler WS 47, BS 34, S 41, T 52, Ag 32, Int 30, Per 26, WP 38, Fel 39, Wounds 16/16, FP 2/4

Phew...close one.

"For some of you, this will be the first time you're involved in a full mechanised charge, so you may want to pay attention now.
Consider it your...baptismal by fire."

"Remember, Iron may be hard, but it's brittle, it only turns to steel through fire and pressure."


Grox elbows Dreamer, indicates the Lt and drops a wink and a grin before pitching his voice low " Heat and pressure, add a bit of moisture and my iron rod doesn't stay hard long, it makes a mess not steel!" with a little laugh at his own joke he continues, "You ready for this mate, you done this before?"


Currently: Being a Turret

Thud watches in awe as the giant walking death machine jumps over him, then actually gasps as the Titan steps over him. Never had he felt so disregard. So ignored. So small. The feeling is utterly foreign, and it fills him with devotion. His heart fills with love and fear and loyalty. If the servants of da Emprah can so this, imagine what He Himself could do!


Male Brawler WS 47, BS 34, S 41, T 52, Ag 32, Int 30, Per 26, WP 38, Fel 39, Wounds 16/16, FP 2/4

Cormaeg takes out his Chrono and checks the time.
We're on time so far...we'll see if it lasts.

Somewhat cynically, he notes the time down and resolves to check how long it takes until something else goes wrong.


Male Brawler WS 47, BS 34, S 41, T 52, Ag 32, Int 30, Per 26, WP 38, Fel 39, Wounds 16/16, FP 2/4

Command (Fel + 10): 1d100 ⇒ 11
Navigate Surface: 1d100 ⇒ 25

"Here we go..."


Currently: Being a Turret

perception: 1d20 ⇒ 19 - 2 DoS!

Thud keeps his eyes peeled, as ordered. The rumble of the Chimera and the sturdy earth before giving him a calm that allows for quick reflexes.


Currently: Being a Turret

Thud suddenly roars onto the Chimera channel, Piglet! Watchin'ya nose! Dere biggy diggy hole dere, ya blinders!


Leni Tivnan Medic BS32 WS25 S29 A28 T25 I63 Will32 Fel30 Per26 Hp15/15 Fate2/2+1 Ins0 Cor7 30/30 4spare

Command +10 vs 40: 1d100 ⇒ 28 2DoS
Navigate Surface(I63 +10 Cartographer) vs 73: 1d100 ⇒ 16 6DoS

Leni is finally in full swing with giving the chimera direction. She can't quite manage to instruct Speaker as precisely as she intents from reading the plan but its still good enough to get things done well.


After the previous work at understanding the quite overloaded map, Cormaeg and Leni now manage to get the platoon out of the trenches and through the hazardous blockaded ground right in front of the trenchworks admirably.

There is one tight spot, where "Piglet" nearly topples into a crater after a sharp turn to circumnavigate a burned out wreck but Thud'dr keen eyes and timely shout out at the top of his massive voice.

The driver of 2nd squad, with the fitting call-sign of "Narrow", jerks the vehicle around at the last moment, scraping the wreck on the left and going airborne with half of his right track. Whether from realizing the danger or just flinching away from the roaring Ogryn voice in his coms is anyone's guess though.

In fact, the plotted course, the concise relay of course corrections and the alacrity with which they are followed by the platoon's drivers, causes you to actually catch up noticeably to both the mechanicus, multi-legged armor in front of you, as well as the towering form of the titan with his retinue of knights.

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