Andronical's page

WS: 2d10 + 30 ⇒ (7, 5) + 30 = 42
BS: 2d10 + 30 ⇒ (10, 4) + 30 = 44
ST: 2d10 + 30 ⇒ (5, 3) + 30 = 38
TO: 2d10 + 30 ⇒ (2, 2) + 30 = 34
AG: 2d10 + 30 ⇒ (4, 5) + 30 = 39
IN: 2d10 + 30 ⇒ (5, 2) + 30 = 37
PR: 2d10 + 30 ⇒ (8, 8) + 30 = 46
WP: 2d10 + 30 ⇒ (5, 4) + 30 = 39
FE: 2d10 + 30 ⇒ (9, 10) + 30 = 49

Inf: 1d5 + 19 ⇒ (4) + 19 = 23
Wounds: 1d5 ⇒ 3

TO re-roll: 2d10 + 30 ⇒ (10, 1) + 30 = 41

Athletics: 35
Awareness: 51
Charm: 59
CL: War: 34
Command: 59
Dodge: 36
FL: Adeptus Astartes: 34
FL: The Long War: 34
FL: Horus Heresy: 34
Intimidate: 35
Linguistics: Low Gothic: 34
Navigate Surface: 34
Operate: Surface: 36
Parry: 46
Scrutiny: 51
SL: Tactica Imperialis 34

Air of Authority
Affect FE bonus x10 using Command Skill

Ambidextrous
Penalty for using weapon in each hand drops to -10

Ancient Warrior
+10 FE Tests when dealing with NPC's familiar with the Long War. Minions increase loyalty by +10. Legion equipment is one category easier to obtain.

Bulging Biceps
No need to brace Heavy Weapons, +20 to Heft

Combat Sense
May use PR bonus in place of AG for Initiative

Iron Discipline
Followers re-roll Pinning and Fear Tests as long as character can be seen.

Heightened Senses (Hearing, Sight)
+10 to Tests specifically involving the listed sense

Legion Weapon Training
Proficient with Bolt, Chain, Melta, Plasma, Power, Flame, Primary, Las, SP, Thrown and Launcher Weapons

Nerves of Steel
+10 to Willpower to Resist Intimidation attempts

Quick Draw
Draw and ready a weapon as a Free Action (Pistol or Basic ranged, or one handed melee)

Resistance (Cold, Heat, Poison)
+10 to tests involving listed group

Sure Strike
Reduce the penalty for called shots by -10

Two Weapon Wielder (Melee)
May use a melee weapon in each hand

Two Weapon Wielder (Ranged)
May use a ranged weapon in each hand

Unarmed Warrior
Character gains Natural Weapons trait with the following profile Dam: 1d10+7 Primitive (7) and counts as armed when facing opponents with his bare hands

Amphibious
Can breathe underwater

Unnatural Strength +4
Add the rating number to the characteristic bonus

Unnatural Toughness +4
Add the rating number to the characteristic bonus

Secondary Heart/Ossmodula/Biscopea/Haemastamen/Melanchromic Organ:
You gain the Unnatural Strength and Toughness Traits.

Larraman’s Organ:
Chaos Space Marines have only a 5% chance to die per round from Blood Loss.

Catalepsean Node:
You suffer no penalties to Perception-based Tests when awake for long periods of time.

Preomnor:
You gain +20 to Toughness Tests against ingested poisons.

Omophagea:
You may gain a Skill or Skill Group by devouring a portion of an enemy.

Multi-Lung:
You may re-roll any failed Toughness Test for drowning or asphyxiation. In addition, you gain a +30 to Toughness Tests made to resist gases, and may re-roll failed results.

Occulobe and Lyman’s Ear:
You gain the Heightened Senses (Sight and Hearing) Talents, +10 to relevant Awareness Tests.

Sus-an Membrane:
Can enter hibernation.

Oolotic Kidney:
You may re-roll any failed Toughness Test to resist poisons and toxins, including attacks with the Toxic Quality.

Neuroglottis:
You may detect any poison or toxin by taste with a successful Awareness Test. You gain a +10 to Tracking Tests against a target you have tasted.

Mucranoid:
You may re-roll any failed Toughness Tests caused by temperature extremes.

Betcher’s Gland:
Can spit acid. Rng: 3m Dam: 1d5 Pen: 4 Toxic. If the character rolls 3 or more successes on his Ballistic test, acid also Blinds target.

Progenoids:
These may be retrieved with a successful Medicae Test.

Black Carapace:
While wearing Power Armour, enemies do not gain a bonus to hit you due to your size.

Legion Bolt Pistol 46/36 Rng: 30M RoF: S/2/-- Dam: 1d10+9 X Pen: 4 Clip: 8 Rld: Full Special: Tearing X4 Clips for Pistol

Legion Power Sword 47/37 Dam: 1d10+15 E Pen: 6 Special: Balanced, Power Field

Legion Combat Knife Dam: 1d10+9 R Pen: 2 Special:

Legion Power Armor H/A/B/L: 8/8/10/8
--Auto Senses- gain Dark Sight, immune to photon flash and stun grenades. Can make a Called Shot as a Half Action

--Osmotic Gill- With the helmet on, the armor is sealed and can maintain adequate oxygen for as long as it remains powered

--Sustainable Power Source-suit does not need to be charged

--Bio Monitor- +10 to resist Toxins, resist Critical Effects for 1d10 rounds, stun lasts only one round

--Enhanced Ceramite Plating- AP 10 Body

--Trophy Rack Opponents at -5 WS to hit target, +10 to Intimidate, -10 to Stealth Tests

Armor Appearance

Microbead

Best Quality Forgery Kit

Ancient Warrior 250 U
WS Advance (Simple) 250 U
BS Advance (Simple) 250 U
FE Advance (Simple) 250 S
Intimidate (Known) 200 N
Combat Sense 250 U
Two Weapon Wielder (Melee) 500 U
Two Weapon Wielder (Ranged) 500 U

How do I tell my story, when there is so much to say. How can I let you see the things I have seen. I've seen attack cruisers burning off the shoulder of Rhoghon. I've witnessed the triple sun rise over the jungles of Umida. I've seen Sevastus broken, while listening to the whispers of damnation. I've inserted troops on a modified 03-K64 in the Unification Wars. I've witnessed fire washing like waves over friend and foe alike in zero-g. I've seen ceramite beams glittering in the dark near the Mohrhauser Chain. All those memories, strung like delicate pearls in a silver thread.

I could tell you of the Umidia Massacre, but without time to give context, what would you know? Very well. The downfall of the Crimson Sabers started in M38, with word of an active Chaos Cult. We dropped an Expeditionary Force planetside the clear a base. From the beginning the natives were passive, but resolved not to assist in our search for the Balethu Cult. We followed clues that let to nowhere. Every rumor, every report; we followed up on them all but never found the true cultists. Each skirmish fueled our anger and resolve. With each new location our augers scanned, we found more corruption, so that it was not long before we went from localized assaults to cleansing. In a methodical and military manner, the Crimson Sabres purged Umidia, seeking nothing less than to eliminate every single one of the world’s inhabitants. In the end, we broke a summoning, but were subject to a terrible curse. In the wake of the purge, teams of Inquisitors from the Ordo Hereticus were sent to investigate. The Inquisitors claim to have found no evidence that the Balethu Cults were worshipers of the Dark Gods. The Inquisition report was damning to the us, determining that our action went well beyond the eradication of some hidden cult, it had been an act of butchery.

These and other actions led to our Chapter being declared Excommunicate Traitoris. We were hounded by the Inquisition. When our Brothers in the Imperial Fists learned of our banishment, they led a force against us. Our brothers, the Dark Angels pursued us intermittently, their engagement was selective and seemed to serve a hidden purpose. When we had no further recourse, we fled to the one place our oppressors would not, could not follow. We entered the Maelstrom in force. We pacified the Hulk known as Lost Hope and made it our own. What we did not reckon was the pervasive influence of the Warp. Heightened fears and desires were given free reign changing the nature of the Chapter, until nothing was left of the Crimson Sabers. All that remained was the Crimson Slaughter.

“… the whispers have spoken, and they have bid me thus. Seek out the Warrior in Red. Where he walks ruination follows. Five heads has the warrior, and they peer in all directions. One is a dreaded foe, and mutters darkly of his past. One is the xenos, its lilting voice covets precious stone, and one was once a fellow, now it festers in furious silence. One is a Man, shrieking in idiot rage. The last is greatest and is his own…” ---Jacek Dukaj, Seer of Fates. M41

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Andronical stood at the edge of the ramp and absently checked his gear. His polished red ceramite glistened in the glow of smoking braziers in the great hull of the voidship as he considered his assigned forces. He hated them. All of them. From the moment he saw them he knew they were beneath his contempt.

“How small you are now. How small are we all since the Fall. Piecemeal tatters of a once glorious Chapter, now frittered away to the Warmaster and his ‘so-called’ Legion. By all the forces of Chaos, I WILL bring back glory to the Chapter.”

The anger swelled and washed over him as he glared hatefully at his squad. Some returned he gaze with their own wrath, others lowered their eyes, either out of fear, or respect, not that Andronical cared. All that mattered was a successful raid on a lightly guarded Q’Sal freighter, bound for Mammon. The men were restless, nearing the point of mutiny. They needed loot. Moreso, they needed diversions and fresh slaves.

>“ANDRONICAL, get your miserable ass in that boarding torpedo, NOW!”<, squawked the vox.

Angry at being chaffed in front of his men, Andronical boarded the craft and strapped himself in. Servitors slaved to the daemonic brain of the ship howled as they reported the approach to the freighter. Andronical felt the torpedo drop into the launch tube and lock into place. It took only a couple of moments, and with a roar the torpedo ejected from the voidship.

>“Disembark, secure the engine decks. Liquidate the living. Leave the servitors untouched. That is your task. No more or less. For this we receive Glory in the name of the Dark Gods and the Chapter. “<

>”"Take from them everything!”<, yelled Barca.

>”Leave only corpses!”<, answered Korbolek.

On the control pad at his arm, Andronical noticed a blue light flickering, then resolve itself to a steady glow. Proximity sensoria gauged the distance to their target and pinged incessantly.

>”Twenty seconds to impact! Prepare yourselves and may the Dark Gods look favorably on us!”< intoned Andronical.

In the dark, the forward point of the torpedo glittered. Its diamantine drill tip started to rotate slowly. As they neared the freighter, the tip picked up speed. At the moment of impact, the drill bit deep into the hull of the freighter as the torpedo swelled to fill the gaps between it and the hull. Rear thrusters pushed the torpedo deeper into the ship. Pinion anchors deployed off the torpedo, locking it in place as the front cone fell off, opening the way for the Traitor Marines to disembark. Barca led the way, hopping off the edge of the torpedo and spinning left to cover the exit of the team. Korbolek was next and turned to the right, taking a knee and bringing his bolter up. Tzolar followed behind Korbolek and tapped his pauldron as he passed, moving forward into the darkened craft. Andronical was next, hunkering down to allow his trophy rack to clear the breach.

As he entered the passageway, he drew an auspex from it's pouch and activated the sensoria array. Setting the parameters to life form detect, he held the auspex up and slowly waved it left to right.

>"30.5 meters to contact. Keep it tight, move out two by two. We have no allies on this deck so I want to see bodies stacked high. Go!"<

The Traitor Marines filed down the passage in pairs agaist the hull and interior wall. Up ahead they could make out a bulkhead door in the intermittent flickering of the shortcircuiting running lights. Somewhere in the distance a klaxon wailed forlornly.

>"Tzolar and Korbolek, cover the door. Barca, you and Darilus breach the room and cover. Make it happen."<

Tzolar and Korbolek took up positions on either side of the bulkhead door, bolters at the ready. Barca and Darilus back away from the door, making room to build up speed. Andronical walked up to the flywheel on the door. Gently, he tested the door and confirmed it was locked.

>Whatever is locked in this room must be valuable. Our first plunder of the day."<

Andronical slowly rotated the flywheel and gripped the latch. Barrels raised slightly in anticipation.

>"One...Two...Three!"<

On "three", Andronical threw open the bulkhead door and two bolters rattled off controlled bursts into the doorway. From behind the stomp of power-armored feet beat out the tempo of doom.
Andronical stepped aside and pressed against the hull to allow Barca and Darilus to pass by. They flew into the chamber as Tzolar and Korbolek ceased firing and raised their barrels. The two running Marines split of left and right, firing blindly into the darkened room. Tzolar and Kobolek followed. Smoke from exploding shells filled the room. The Marines passed by crates and boxes of duraplast searching for targets.

From out of the smoke arose a whining hiss as green lasersights sought out the Marines. Suddenly, the air was filled with the hissing crack of las fire and pinging solid projectile rounds. Three servitors resolved from the smoke, implacably advancing and firing. One zeroed in on Tzolar and fired off bursts of las fire, scoring his ceramite armor, one of them burning a thumb-sized hole through his pauldron. The other two servitors turned away to seek out new targets. One spied Darilus near the back of the chamber and fired off a shot, burning a hole into the Marine's eyepiece and through his skull. The third advanced down the middle of the room, the autogun affixed to its shoulder blazing.

Just then, Andronical entered the room. Glancing down at the recumbent form of Darilus, he looked back up at the servitor. The serivtor raised the autogun for another punishing salvo. Hatred rose in Andronical as he drew his power sword and bolt pistol on the move. Two round bursts connected with the tracked wheels that had replaced the servitor's legs, shattering them and rendering the servitor immobile. The sudden swing of the power sword connected with the thing's shoulder and drove deep into the hollow chest cavity. Strange liquids showered the Aspiring Champion as the servitor's "life" ended.

The servitor who shot Tzolar never registered death closing in. Korbolek drew his chainsword, and swung madly at the thing, revving the motor at the last second. Spinning teeth dug deep into the fleshly center of the servitor. Pallid, sickly flesh was torn and flung away by the swing of the sword and the mechanized thing bled out. Dead sightless eyes stared uncomprehendingly at Korbolek as its pitiful existence ended.

Barca fired off a two-shot bursts at the last servitor, both rounds entering the head and body of the thing. A quiet double >"wumpf"< came from the servitor as both rounds exploded, finishing the wretched creature.

Andronical looked away from the twitching mass of flesh and machine. He had heard the chainsword and the muffled thumps of the bolter.

>"Clear?"<

Three affirmative responses followed.

>"Darilus has passed beyond the Veil. I want a status report and ammo check. Take anything from Darilus that can be used. Leave nothing behind that can be carried."<

At the far end of the room, a large rolltop gate barred entrance to the next, larger cargo hold. From beneath the ill-fitted gate seeped brief flashes of light, and an sulphuric odor. Low chanting could be heard and the whipping of a phantom wind rattled the gate on its tracks.

>"Bust the gate housing, let it drop. We'll have some cover. Do it now!"<

Assembling at the gate, Korbolek and Barca each fired one shot at the edges of the gate housing, breaking it free from its chains. The top of the gate dropped down to the floor, exposing the top half of the entry. The chamber within was lit by an eerie glow. Candles on the floor burned with green flames, marking the points of an eight pointed star.

Around the star stood nine figures, clad in robes. Although covered, the marks of mutation were unmistakable. All had been generously gifted. All were chanting. In the midst of the horrific tableau, the air in the center of the room began to dialate. All four Marines heard an incessant pounding in their ears as the Warp forced itself into reality and the air was torn asunder. From out of the gaping wound poured small red figures. I was as if someone had crafted men out of wax, then partially melted them. Some had no face, just a gaping maw. Others had arms too long for their bodies. Warp horrors in every form imaginable poured and slithered and capered out of the rent and into reality.

>"Kill the cultists!! They mean to draw forth more reinforcements!! FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!"<

Perhaps it was their concentration. Maybe it was the Warp wind shrieking. None of the cultists knew they were under attack until it was too late.
One by one they fell. Torn apart by bolter rounds exploding. One figure on the far end of the room screamed in abject horror as the ritual was disrupted and he was set upon by the prancing horrors. They giggled and jibbered as they torn him apart, then carried his still screaming form back to the tear.
As they entered the Warp incursion, a deep thrumming noise assaulted the room. A shadowy figure stood on the other side of the portal, its massive bulk filling the wound. One taloned, gray hand reached through the portal, gripping the edges. Then another clawed hand reached out and grasped the other side, leaking small feathers. A great beaked head pushed its way into reality looking for all the world like a giant vulture. Absently, it grabbed one of the still living cultists in its beaked maw and bit down, tearing the shrieking mutant in half.

Without waiting for orders, Barca and Korbolek opened fire on the Gigantic daemon, but their bolters had little effect on the Warp-spawned abomination.

"FOOLISH MORTALS, YOUR PITIFUL ASSAULT IS LIKE THE BUZZING OF FLIES...TREMBLE BEFORE THE MIGHT AND MAJESTY OF KAR'LLOK'RA!"

The last remaining cultist ran at Andronical, beating on his chestplate ineffectually.
"Don't you see what you've done?? Can't you see this is the end for all of us? Wait, I know you! THE RED WARRIOR! The one with five heads!"

<"You are next little fool. First I deal with the daemon, then I will tear you apart!">

Andronical brushed the cultist aside and charged the daemon, raising his power sword menacingly.

The daemon stepped fully into the world and leaned over to Barca, vomiting a gout of pink flames. Try as he might, Barca was not able to dodge far enough out of the way of the fire. It engulfed him and two of the twitching cultists. All three melted, howling into burbling pools of mutating flesh and bone. Where there were once three, now one spawn tried to rise, tried to gain coherence, but the Warp flame would not be denied. The spawn slumped and melted into twitching goo.

Andronical brought the power sword around in a murderous arc, slicing into the daemon's leg. But the wound would not keep. It closed almost instantly as the daemon swung about its mighty staff, glittering sparks of warp power chasing behind it. The staff struck Andronical fully in the chest and sent him careening into the wall at the far end of the room. The cultist ran after Andronical, screaming in terror.

Seeing only two foes left, the Greater Daemon turned it's attention to Tzolar and Korbolek. The cultist dragged Andronical to an aperture on the wall, opening it and stuffing the Marine into the tiny chamber, then climbing in himself.

"Fate has other plans or you Marine. This is not your day to die..."