Warhammer 40k RP

[First Speaker]

Arvus Dropsite

Looking at an array of instruments, Belisarius smiled inwardly, and looked up to the sky. It was somewhat overcast, but he could see a patch of clear, deep blue. They were up there - to think of it - that infinite sea! - but now was not the time. He entered his reply into the dataslate, and then inscribed the sigil that sent it on its way. A thin stream of encrypted data wound its way up towards Lucius' ship.

I hear that you are pure, but you you say you 'purged' an 'unclean' Inquisitor; who, pray tell? Does a purity seal, an outward sign, always mean inner purity? Perhaps, if the chaplain is good enough.

As a peace-offering for powering down your primary weapons, you may be pleased to know that, as we speak, the Dark Eldar are busy breaking down the doors of the Vaunted Hope, the Traitor Legion flagship. It was cloaked, but its dreadclaws were not, and so they have given away their position. It's at .00439\-43.98\34.50 relative to Aquileus II, in a steady elliptic polar orbit. You may wish to check it out, before the Wychkin slaughter, or take as slaves, those of the Fifteenth Legion. Should you wish assistance from a tainted Inquisitor, I could send a strike team of Terra's own Silent Sisterhood to help deal with the sorcerous wretches, or Mercutio's lot, should they be needed - you need only ask.

Emperorspeed,

Belisarius.

Spoiler

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Zacharius has a Tau lovechild! :shock:!

Chez Chaos


Shrouded in cameoline, Dioksor Curalah knelt in the long grass just twenty metres from the prostrating cultists. Typical chaos-worshippers - they relied on the warp for just about everything, and, of course looked through pariahs as if they weren't there. She didn't hate them for it though; actually, she hated them for their evil, abhorrence to nature, humanity, and the Emperor's divine light.

Communicating solely in sign language - while, as a mere novice in her order, she had not, by this point taken the oath of silence, the others had - her hands darting to her sisters fanned out around the field, and receiving a steady stream of intelligence data from Ysha in the Winter's Stair above, she advanced somewhat. Engagement was scheduled for t-15 seconds. Ten seconds later, she drew herself up slightly, began circling rapidly to the left, and opened up in a high mezzo-soprano with the Canticle of Saint Julian, an ancient Terran hymn dating back to before the Horus Heresy.

The path of the Emperor is beset on all sides by the spoor of heresy and the tyranny of warp-spawned men.

Down went the blind grenades, thrown by Soeur Melicidier from her vantage point concealed in one of the trees. These were the purpose of the impromptu choral accompaniment. In their novitiate, members of the Silent Sisterhood were trained to be consummate singers, forming choirs that even the larger Adepta Sororitas convents were envious of - skills that, having been honed to such beatific perfection, had to be thrown aside as one entered the Sisterhood proper. This, she had come to realise, was part of the rigorous psychological training that they received - that such individual talent did not matter compared to the glory of the Imperium, that they should learn self-discipline and asceticism - but anything was worth sacrificing for the Emperor. This singing, piercing as it did above the uproar of the cultists, and unimpeded by the blind grendades, contained, woven into its melody, a set of precise battleplans and instructions for each stage of the engagement. The next of which was coming up now.

Glory-bearing is she, who in the name of servitude and sympathy for the common man, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness,

A dull boom. Soeur Admah had detonated the melta bombs on the Dreadclaw assault boat. It might still fly, but it was severely damaged, and could not do so without extensive repairs.

for she is truly the keeper of the Emperor's light and the defender of lost children.

Soeur Melicidier had, by this point, stowed the remaining grenades, and drew a stalker-shell fed bolt rifle. Her shot took off the head of a cultist in the back ranks. All present could not her - but certainly heard, and in some cases felt - the man's head bursting like and over-ripe watermelon.

And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger


Another shot. This one over the heads of the remaining cultists. A friendly reminder to get the frak down and not get up.

those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers and sisters.


A third shot. This one in the direction of the possessed - if it did not hurt one, it would scatter them; if it did not scatter them, then they would look the other way.

And you will know the light of the Emperor when we lay our vengeance upon thee!

With this, Curalah had circled round towards the Sorceror. Saying these words, she drew her power sword, rose with her sisters, and charged.