Thud'dr's page

Thud slides down the nearest wall, which takes a while because he's as tall as the hallway itself, and brings his Picture Scripture up on his lap from the chain woven into it's spine. The book might as well be an artifact at this point. It's been through The fire and fury of battle, the dank and damp of the sewer, and the handling of an ogryn and it's still in perfect working order. Not a single page is ripped. Truly, the Emperor Protects.

He opens its lock with a truly gentle and reverent little thump and turns to the hymns of Sanguinalia. He half humms to himself the tunes of the hymns he sees with a peaceful smile that is not at all home on his ugly, scarred face.

Thud is quiet. Too quiet. He's been told to be quiet quite often recently and the ElTee is looking grumpy like those Drill Instructor Lit'le uns at Boot's Camp. So Thud trudges along muttering darkly about the darkness and occasionally reciting litanies in perfect High Gothic.
His Eviscerator is out and quiet as the vehicle grade armor plate that is pretending to be a shield hangs on his other arm.

Thud does not exit the back of the Chimera. It would take far to long to squeeze through there. Instead, he places one hand on the roof of the Chimera and hauls himself up and over the side. With his other hand he snatches his shield from its place strapped to the inside wall. His boots hit dirt and the ground shudders. He takes up position on the right flank of the line. His Evicerator, quiet at the moment, still gleams threateningly in the choked light of battle. He spots the sniper nest and looks to Leni, begging with his eyes to be set loose.

We follow the beam as the world around it slows. The beam flashes across the relatively narrow gap to its target in the blink of an eye. Just before it hits, reacting faster than thought, Thud's holy implants emit a pulse of sanctified energy, countering the fell and corrupted influence on the shot's aim. The shot refracts ever so slightly and catches Thud's polished, shiny Bon'e'ead implants at an acute angle. The polished sheen reflects the shot instead of absorbing it. The needle of concentrated death leaves only a carbonized streak in its wake.
Thud's head doesn't even rock back. Instead, he turns, Stubber still chewing up the infantry, and locks his eyes on the origin point of the shot. He is hurt. Not physically, but emotionally. The coward didn't even have the guts to stand up! He feels his innate rage boil; His voice becomes a rumbling threat, ElTee? They be tryin' ta snip me! Can I get out now?

Takes the Hit, Immoveable, Superhuman Defenses: 2d6 + 3 ⇒ (3, 6) + 3 = 12

Thud sends a burst at the cowering cowards behind the tank traps, then yells down, AYAA ELTEE! DEM BROS GET TA PLAY! CAN I PLAY TOO!?

In the background of Leni's orders is a constant roar of stabber fire and Thud shouting glorious imprecations against his targets interspersed with poorly worded curses and cackling laughter.

"How many boxes are you missing, Thuddy?"

Thud takes one look at the flood of targets in front of him and responds, Just gimmie!

Thud is confused. His ammo can is gone. It was right here! He checks his pockets. Not there. His other arm. Not there. He thinks about checking his crack, (people always talked about pulling things out of there) but there wasn't enough space to reach. The crew never knows how close it came to true horror.
Then he hears a rattle and the crew mention a can! Oi! Gimmie! he bellows.

From up top, the constant rust of heavy scrubber fire suddenly stops. A single cultist from the group of twenty Thud had been turning into Emperor-Blessed Chunky Salsa remained, surrounded by the ankle deep soup of his fellows. That one man grinds, clearly blessed by his profane masters. Thud immediately rips the empty ammo can from the weapon and chucks it at the defiant heretic. His face has just long enough to register surprise before the metal ammo can splits it in two.
Thud bellows his laughter and slams another can in place. He swims his weapon towards the cultists assaulting the God Machine and opens up!
shielded 3, deadlifts tanks: 2d6 - 2 ⇒ (5, 1) - 2 = 4

Inside the chimera, Thud squats down faster than anyone his size should. He basically goes from standing to kissing his own butt goodbye in less than a second. Parts of him that were slightly sweaty are now steaming and he's moaning in discomfort. Dirty boomy warpy grox-crap ... he grumbles under his breath. Just lemme at'em. I'll bonk'em good, you see...*grumblegrumble*

Face Danger; Takes the Hit/Incredible Endurance/Supernatural Defense: 2d6 + 3 ⇒ (2, 5) + 3 = 10
When the camera cuts to Thud he has reflexively covered his face with one beefy arm. A cloud of tiny razors and pellets of red hot metal swarm him, but none find any real purchase in his armored hide. The heat, however, cares for little for armor. Thud grunts as what little hair he had managed to grow is instantly gone.

Thud grunts up above. How he heard the plan over the roar of his gun is a bit of a mystery. Maybe he sees where this is going and just intuitively decides to switch weapons. Either way, the rhythmic pound of his high caliber gun stops. The huge Mauler, both barrels smoking dangerously from the continuous fire, is laid on the floor by a meaty paw from above. The hand then moves to a bulky bag stashed by the wall and held there by one of tree trunks that Thud uses for legs. From within Thud pulls a pristine (and, worryingly, loaded) Heavy Stubber. This disappears up the hole where the Mauler had come from and a low chuckle rumbles over the chimera's local vox. Jus say da werd, ElTee, and I'll start cuttin' da grass!

Blow Em Up! thunders Thud's voice from overhead.

Thud roars and laughs in equal measure as the bunker evaporates. He's not looking directly at the blast, of course. That would mean not looking at the targets he's firing at. But even a sidelong glance at titan class weaponry is unhealthy at best.
Face Danger!, Takes the Hit, Incredible Endurance: 2d6 + 2 ⇒ (5, 5) + 2 = 12 =Great Success!

Thud blinks at just the right time, the light shining through his eyelids, but even his eyelids are made of stern stuff. When he opens them again, he's probably the only person in half a kilometer not blinking spots out of his eyes.

The steady THUMP rattling through the bones of the Chimera as Thud's Mauler goes off has become almost comforting as small arms fire adds stecatto pings to its thunderous beat. Thud has completely commandeered the front arc of the turret. In his right hand, braced precariously on the lip, is the Mauler, its muzzle brakes black with carbon, hurling twinned death at anything even remotely armored. Usually such a weapon would take two hands to stabilize, but not today. Today is the Day of the Emprah's Wrath, and Thud is His Instrument. In his left, lifted high and waving in wild abandon, is his Evicerator, its revving engine adding to the rumble of the Chimera to bring forth a symphony of death.

Huge as he is, Thud makes a tempting target. Weak las shots glance and small caliber rounds bounce off his new carapace body armor occasionally, but no large rounds with a chance to penetrate have found him. The Emprah Proteks indeed. His implant's lights dance across his skull as it feeds him constant litanies of battle and protection which he bellows in barely comprehensible low gothic.

Sanctioned Priest, Sanctified Icon of Violence, +2: 2d6 + 2 ⇒ (4, 4) + 2 = 10 = This isn't just an assault, it's being conducted with Righteous Wrath and... Something? Drive me Closer?

That check is impossible for Thud because he doesn't have awareness trained. So no, he doesn't spot whatever that is and opens fire anyway. XD

The gun clicks. But it shouldn't be dry, not by a long shot. Thud looks confused. The ElTee starts talking, but Thud understands little of it. If a gun clicks and the rounds aren't spent, that means a jam! Thud quickly cycles the action.
Then one if his brothers gets skewered. Thud roars, but it's not pain. He has survived worse personally, several times. What he roars about is the fact that while the snake thing has it's tail in his comrade, it's mostly immobile. It Stuck! GRABBY TAIL. HOLDER DOOWN! POUR IT ON!
He holds the trigger down!

Thud needs no more encouragement. The Mauler immediately swings bear on the new target and opens fire!
Eat Lead! vs mid 30's probably: 1d100 ⇒ 91
But none of his shells come close.

Thud is confused by the Magos' shot, but he was a Cog bro, so whatever. As soon as Drips opens up, he does too!
Twin linked Semi-Auto vs 50s ish: 1d100 ⇒ 55
Impact, Pen6: 3d10 + 8 ⇒ (4, 6, 2) + 8 = 20
Impact, Pen6: 3d10 + 8 ⇒ (3, 9, 2) + 8 = 22

insanity: 1d5 ⇒ 1
will vs 53: 1d100 ⇒ 88 - Well, that can't be good

Thud is confused. Like, not the normal half-understanding things confused. Like, REALLY confused. He sees Himself everywhere... Uhhh, ElTee? You gotsda be seen dis..., right?

And in the background of Cormaeg's admonitions, the steady THUMP THUMP of heavy gunfire and the indistinct growl of Thud shouting Ecclesiastical Imprecations.

Thud focuses fire on the nearby ones chucking fire. The Mauler sends a quartet of slugs into the air as his concern for 2nd squad naggs in the back of his mind and his Implant screams.
"May the divine wrath of the Emprah descend upon those who defy his Will, and may their souls be forever burdened by the weight of their transgressions!" he shouts involuntarily as the implant's words make it out of his mouth.
boom boom! vs 31 at least: 1d100 ⇒ 10 - 3+ DoS, twin linked means 3 hits
Impact, pen6: 3d10 + 8 ⇒ (9, 5, 1) + 8 = 23
Impact, pen6: 3d10 + 8 ⇒ (9, 2, 9) + 8 = 28
Impact, pen6: 3d10 + 8 ⇒ (5, 1, 10) + 8 = 24 - RF! 1d5 ⇒ 2
clip 1/3: 32/40 rounds

There's a Righteous Fury in there too!

init: 1d10 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12
fear vs 43: 1d100 ⇒ 90
fear table +50 oh gosh: 1d100 + 50 ⇒ (89) + 50 = 139
fate point, I can't either die or pass out right now...
fear test again vs 43: 1d100 ⇒ 57
that's better: 1d100 + 20 ⇒ (18) + 20 = 38
That's better
Thud sees. The Ministorum implant in his head knows. And the instinctive urge to flee mixes with the artificial impulses to PURGE so violently that Thud is left shaking. His hands clench and his new Mauler opens up, firing into the monsters with two thunderous reports!
semi auto1 vs 31 : 1d100 ⇒ 82
semi auto1 vs 31: 1d100 ⇒ 30
Impact, pen6: 3d10 + 8 ⇒ (10, 7, 4) + 8 = 29
RF!: 1d5 ⇒ 4
The first round is well off target, but the second seems a bit luckier!

ElTee? Somethin' be movin' in da big 'ol glass ta Pearl! Thud says hesitantly, then roars out to the other Ogryn, OI! YOUS GET YERSELFS BACK IN DERE OR WE BE LEAVIN'YA!
fellowship?: 1d100 ⇒ 16

fear: 1d100 ⇒ 33
Thud has a front row view of what's happening. His implant is flooding his mind with words like Heresy and Immaterium and Malifacarium. No less than four separate hyms of protection and cleansing thunder through his skull like frightened grox.
With an act of will he mentally muscles his brain wires back into place and picks a prayer for the protection of the souls under his care. The Priests are always Talkin about how he needs to Protek them from the Not-Bullets of the foe. This seems like a not-bullet to him! His voice rumbles in the unnatural quiet.

Da Emprah Proteks! Not just frum da las or da krak or da choppa! Da Emprah Proteks even Here. Wherever here is.
Love da Emprah, For he be da Salvation of Mankind
Obey his word, For he will lead ya into the light o'da Future
Head his Wisdom, For he will Protek ya from Evil
Whisper his prayers with Devotion, for dey will save yer soul
Honor his servants, For dey speak with his voice
Tremble before his majesty, For we all walk in his immortal shadow!

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

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.

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!

The last guy to have his gun previously owned by a Magos was "recruited" by the AdMech...

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.

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.

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

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!

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.

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...

requisition attempt 2, for Cuthbert's frag missile: 1d100 ⇒ 97 - fail
requisition attempt 3, for Cuthbert's scatter missiles: 1d100 ⇒ 46 - success

Ok. I'll be done. Come see me, Cuthbert. ;)

Oops, I did the math wrong. The dice don't like you, man.

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.

Heavy Stubber requisition base 20 +20 regiment favored weapon -10 rare->scarce = vs 30: 1d100 ⇒ 7

OH SNAP!

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!

Thud turns from Grox to face his two brothers square. His brow knits together when they report their willful disobedience. His eyes quickly find their handler.
Is day yer lil'un? he asks pointing at the handler. When they nod and grunt, he steps forward to the man and takes his thick rosarius in his hand. You be lil'un. Da DARK has no fear for ya. Not for me neither. But you fail at leaderin'. Bruva Un'Groll an Bruva Duk'Tar know da Creeps in da dark. Day tingle on the brain. You gotta STUMP EM! Be Bigga! Be LOUDA! He roars, the sound of this bravery echoing between machines.
LEMME HEAR YA ROAR AWAY DA DARK!

please be compatible with an MIU

Thud drops the launcher in Dreamer's hands and returns the sign. His large fingers make the Aquila look like the bird of prey it represents.
What so funny? he asks with a little worry at missing the joke.

Thud turns his huge, jagged grin on Dreamer. He doesn't really respond to any of the names, suggesting that he'll probably respond to all of them. He takes the large metal weapon in one hand and gives it a few experimental swings. It's empty tube whooshes and howls impressively, but Thud seems unimpressed. Eh. It's all hollow and stuff. No Fump to it. I guess I could handle it if ya want. I like dis better. He pats the handle of his Evicerator that's peeking over his shoulder.

Thud takes immediate notice of the new guy now that he didn't have the distraction of remembering his gift to Leni. He looks the grizzled beefcake of a man up and down before smiling that terrifying and yet child-like grin of stained marble protrusions masquerading as teeth.
Hi Lit'leUn! You be a Mamma Leni kid now?

Cormaeg's praise brings a proud straightening of Thud's spine. Doing things the right way is so awesome!

Thud nods vigorously at Leni's suggestion of combining it, seemingly just happy to see her happy.

Thud jumps at the correction and salutes, forgetting about the six inch hunk of brass in his hand. The gear hits his forehead with enough force to crack any other person's skull, but he barely winces.
Mamma Sarge Leni, yes, Ma'am. I give you a Givey!
It's not even close to fit for the parade ground, but that's what only a few months of training gets you. Thud extends the gift and smiles at Cormaeg. Like dat, Eltee?

In his sleep, Thud'Dr is hunting on the soft, pillowy fresh-snow. The sounds of the world are dead. Caught and smothered in the fresh fallen drifts. There is no quarry in sight yet. No seal or caribou. He hasn't even seen any predators beside the one Great Eagle. The cold seeps to his bones, drawing him into connections with the world. He breathes with the wind and sighs with the wind-snow as it is carried off the drift-peaks.

There is a voice carried on the wind. Stern and yet playful. It's followed by a tougher voice that feels like leather and discipline. It's time.

Thud snaps awake, the transition from sound asleep to perfectly alert taking fractions of a second. With a great heave that sets the Chimera to rocking he takes to his feet and beams a terrifying smile at Mamma Leni.
Mamma Leni! Thud heard you on the dream-snows! I'm so happy to see you! I made you a givey! He pulls out something that, for him, is a delicate work. It's a six inch brass cog with a strip of industrial canvass tied to the center and hanging down a full foot from the toothed edge. On the canvas, written (or possibly just stained) in what looks like engine grease, is written the Chorus of Spiritual Fortitude in rough high gothic mixed with what looks like the spelling of a child.
By the Emperor... it's a purity seal?