Suffer The Little Children [Dark Heresy] - IC

[LCP]

Heironymous & Olympus

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Heironymous Only

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At Heironymous’ voice, the daemon’s voice grew angry, a thundering presence of blood and hot brass in his head. The Provost felt his hand twitch and shake, as if longing to bury his sword in Olympus’ back.

When it catches you, you both die here, snarled the voice. Now, when he gives you the cord! DO IT!.

The Genestealer leapt after its receding prey, its disturbingly human hands gripping the hive wall as both claws scythed at Heironymous. The Provost's sword flicked out again, striking the reaching talons aside.

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Climbing charge: (1d100)[48] - hit.
Parry: (1d100)[26] - parried.
Damage: (1d10+7)[15], (1d10+7)[12]

Below it, its scalded brother continued scuttling upwards, the relentless pull of gravity apparently only a minor inconvenience to the Xenos beast.

[Saldre]

"My Turn-"

Olympus hands him the cord, and swipes at the genestealer, attempting to knock it off the hive wall.

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Knock down str Test- (1d100)[22]- a pretty darned good one, Vs 40, and here's an attack (1d100)[87]-(1d10)[4]/(1d10)[9]

[Destro_Yersul]

"Knock them both off. Need to knock them both off." Hieronymus struggles to maintain his hold on the grapnel.

LCP Only

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No! I can't. Not yet. There's still a chance we can both make it out of this.

[Thanatos 51-50]

Red determinately shut both his mouth and eyes, resolving not to scream as he plummeted into the depths, crossing his arms over his chest and bringing his feet together, he stiffened as much as possible, waiting for the inevitable stop at the end of the fall.

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Waterslide! Wheeee!

As he reached the bottom, Red sghted in on the boxy artifce towrds the rear of the cave, holding the rifle with his shooting hand and carefully peeling away the black covering tarp.

[Etcetera]

Jericus pulled out his knife and began to saw at the wires, trying to free a length of about a meter.

His plan was hardly guaranteed to work, but that said, it was better than just relying on his already sapped strength to carry him across.

At least he had light to work by...

[LCP]

Heironymous & Olympus

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The Genestealer ducked its head under the arc of Olympus’ sword, only to receive the assassin’s boot to its muzzle – the Xenos beast shrieked as it lost its grip on the hive wall, sliding back down as it scrabbled for a handhold. A three-clawed talon drove hard into the corroded metal flank of the hive, anchoring it in place and checking its fall – as it tried to pull itself up, however, the steel plate it had punctured gave way, sending it slithering back down. Unless it could catch itself in the next few moments, the triumph of gravity seemed imminent.

Meanwhile, Phrenz’s killer was still climbing, steadily gaining on the Acolytes – surprisingly, it was moving out to the left, putting more distance between itself and its prey. It was already almost level with them – Heironymous saw it glance upwards and to the right, and realised with a sinking feeling that its eyes were fixed on the grapnel cable that was pulling them to safety...

Heironymous Only

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This isn’t about me and you, Heironymous, said the voice, its tone changing in the merest split second from thunder and blood to a wheedling, pleading oiliness. This is about survival. Half the weight, double the speed, eh?

His fingers were trembling, the muscles in one arm twitching. He could tell that if the daemon were strong enough, it would not be asking his permission...

[hr]

Jericus

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The cables sparked as the knife cut through them – evidently they were still live. The knife’s rubberised handle protected him, but he would have to watch the trailing ends that remained behind.

Soon, he had a metre’s length of dead cable in his hands. The shaft, however, was at least six metres across.

[hr]

Red

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Approaching the tarpaulin, Red pulled it away – it rippled to the cave floor, revealing the battered shape of a cargo lighter not unlike the one that had brought them to Sector 963 – albeit broader and older-looking. Stencilled on the side were the faded letters

V. S. BYZANTIUM

There were two entry-ways: a hatch communicating directly with the cockpit, and the broad doors to the hold at the rear. Both were closed; neither, however, appeared to be locked.

[Destro_Yersul]

LCP Only

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This is our best chance to kill these things. No amount of armour or speed can save them from gravity, and I want to see some damn BLOOD. Hieronymus knows that the daemon wouldn't ask his permission if it were stronger, and he knows that this gives him the advantage for now. Olympus had saved his ass twice now. He owed the assassin that much.

"Olympus, take the grapnel back. I'm going to shoot that second one." Hieronymus draws his pistol again, taking a second to flip the fire selector to semi-auto, and snapped off two quick shots at the genestealer that killed Phrenz.

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(1d100)[19] Assuming it's within half range of the pistol (10m), I believe I need to roll under 54 to score a hit.

[LCP]

Heironymous & Olympus

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The Provost’s pistol roared twice, spitting fire into the Scintillan rain – the Genestealer gave an alien shriek of pain as the heavy shot punched through its double-jointed leg in a spray of ichor and fractured chitin, its claws digging into the hive wall to stop itself from falling.

Below it, its brother took one last desperate chance at regaining its position – as it swung its weight upwards, the buckled steel plate supporting it sheared completely away, sending it tumbling downwards in a tangle of flailing, spidery limbs. It rolled briefly against the slope of the hive before bouncing clear, plummeting like a stone over the cliffs below – its dwindling scream died away into nothingness, a vanishing dot hurtling towards the roaring sea and jagged rocks below.

As the grapnel continued to drag them upwards, Heironymous saw that Phrenz’s killer was still clinging on - heaving itself upwards once more, it was favouring its injured leg, using its forelimbs to do the climbing as it ripped new handholds out of the solid steel. Wounds that would have killed a man in moments had only slowed it down...

[Thanatos 51-50]

Red quickly circled around to the rear hatch and slammed the door open, quickly sweeping the room with his lasgun.
[hr]
Assuming the rearward hatch is clear of anything resembling hostiles:

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Noting that the void was all clear, he bounded to the cockpit, making sure to shut the rear hatch behind him, and set his lasgun in the receptacle next to the pilot's seat, working the arcane runes which would stir the Machine Spirit to life.

---

* post roll count doesn't match database

[LCP]

Red

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The lighter's hold was mercifully clear - it looked like it had last been used to transport some bulky cargo, all extraneous apparatus stowed away. It had clearly gone unused for a long time, however - every surface was covered with a light film of dust.

Clambering into the cockpit, Red found himself presented with a bewildering array of buttons, dials and screens - trying to recall his training from the Munitorum shuttle-bays of the Vespasian campaign, he quickly identified the ignition, throttle, steering column, altimeter and vox. Everything seemed to be in working order, although the fuel gauge was a little low. It just needed switching on.

[Thanatos 51-50]

Red quickly struck the rune which would bring the machine to life, whispered a fervent prayer to the Machine God and attempted to pilot the lighter outside of its makeshift bay.

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In case you want a roll: AG33 - (1d100)[6]

[LCP]

Red

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The instrument-board lit up - with a rising whine, the lighter's turbines fired into life, angling downwards to lift it off its improvised landing pad. The rising downdraught blew the rumpled tarpaulin aside, driving it rippling into the corner of the cave - as the last of the vehicle's sensors came online, it lifted slowly off the ground, twitching skittishly under Red's hands on the steering.

The flick of a tarnished switch turned on the lighter's powerful forward lamps, illuminating the cave wall directly ahead - ever-so-carefully rotating the vessel on the spot to face the exit, Red paused for a moment before engaging the thrusters, accelerating through the cave mouth and out over the vast Scintillan sea.

Perhaps fifty metres or so beneath him, the poisoned sea roared against black granite cliffs, toothy crags of rock sticking up through crashing breakers that sent spumes of spray leaping almost up to the cave's lip. A thin rain swept the surface of the water, making the soaring cliffs glisten - foreshortened by the height, the swollen bulk of Hive Sibellus picked up where the sheer rock-face left off over a kilometre overhead, a jagged mountain of metal and stone that stabbed towards the dirty heavens. Away to the north, Governor Hax's Lucid Palace stood on its own pinnacle of rock, linked back to the main hive by a delicate spider's-web of suspension bridges - directly overhead, the maw of Port Tabernos yawned in the hive wall, its protruding landing pads and antennae looking like a jagged line of irregular teeth.

The lighter skimmed fifty metres above the waves, sturdy turbines holding their own against the strong wind blowing in off the ocean. It looked like the sink-hole had taken him quite a way down...

[Thanatos 51-50]

Without notable hesitation, Red increased the throttle and nosed up, making for an approach to the nearest landing bay, closely monitoring Vox traffic and visually scanning the facing side of the Hive as he did so, searching for his comrades - although he relised such a search was likely in vain.

[Saldre]

"Were almost there- Fire away: One down, another to go"

Olympus takes over the winch- at least until the provost runs out bullets.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Aye. Let's hope my luck is as good as yours was." Hieronymus checks the magazine on the Irontalon. Only six shots remained in its magazine. In order to conserve his remaining ammo, he decided to try taking aim before shooting this time, as well as firing only a single bullet.

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(1d100)[31] Ok, it's definitely not point blank anymore, so this is at 54 to hit.

[Etcetera]

Using the wires as a climbing aid, Jericus began to try to make his way cross the lattice of pipes. By twisting the wire flex around them Jericus hoped to reduce the chances of him falling into the abyssal hole below.

[LCP]

Heironymous & Olympus

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The Provost’s pistol barked again, Heironymous’ aim remaining true – the bullet cut into one of the Genestealer’s grasping hands, the creature hissing as it snatched the mangled extremity away. Still climbing on four fully functional limbs, it kept pulling itself up – its injured leg, however, was affecting its balance. Losing its grip on the rain-slick precipice for a moment, it slid joltingly down, hanging on for dear life – Heironymous watched with his heart in his mouth as the Genestealer dug in its claws, the next few moments certainly about to determine whether the beast lived or died. The grapnel was still drawing them upwards – as the monster moved out of easy pistol range, Heironymous realised they were actually getting away...

[hr]

Red

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As the lighter hove around on its new heading, steadily rising up the great, black cliff-face, Red activated the vox, searching for the port’s channel – there was a blurt of static, and a bored-sounding voice came over the speaker.

“Unknown vessel. This is the Port Tabernos landing authority. Please identify your craft.”

The mouth of the port was coming fully into view now – as he rose above the level of the cliff-top, Red noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Movement – and a tiny, bright flash of weapons-fire – on the outside of the hive wall, below and to the right...

[Destro_Yersul]

Hieronymus held his fire for now, saving his precious remaining ammunition for if the horrible thing was actually able to pull itself back up. "Come on..." He whispered under his breath. "Join your brother, you filth..."

[LCP]

Heironymous & Olympus

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Sliding to a halt at the end of a track of mangled metal, the Genestealer paused for a moment before trying to heave itself back up - the corroded plating parted again under its supporting claw, sending it jolting another metre or so down...

[Thanatos 51-50]

Upon noting the Flash of weapons discharge, Red noses away from Port Tabernos and acquires a vector on the fire, rapidly engaging and disengaging the vox and hoping it sounds like he's having serious issues with an array in extreme disrepair, replies.
"This is an Inquisitorial Acolyte. I have commandeered this vessel from the surface. I need to speak to an Ordo Xenos representative immediatly."
And then, as he turns, switches tone and cadence. "Have observed weapons discharge near the Hive walls. Am modifying vector to investigate."

[LCP]

Red

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The lighter veered around, the strong wind buffeting its stubby wings – as the hive wall loomed up ahead, he could make out tiny, black figures through the falling haze of rain, clinging like ants to the sheer flanks of the metal mountain. Two humanoid shapes, rising slowly on a perilous-looking cord that hung from a service gantry running sideways out from the port mouth – below them, the familiar, terrible outline of a Genestealer, clinging to the hive wall with bare claws alone. Some way below them, an ancient access door hung open over the rusted remains of a forgotten walkway, clearly the monster’s means of exit from the underhive.

The vox crackled, the machine spirit not taking kindly to Red’s tomfoolery with the switches.

“-our transm- -peat, state y- -dentification...”

[hr]

Heironymous & Olympus

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Watching the Genestealer dangle, Heironymous became aware of a sound intruding on the drumming of the rain and the steady whir of the grapnel – aircraft engines, coming closer.

Rising from below the level of the cliffs, a battered lighter hove into view, not unlike the one that had first brought them to the Sector – angled at first towards the mouth of the port, it slowly swung round towards them, the noise of its engines growing louder as it pulled towards the hive wall...

[hr]

Jericus

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Straining every ounce of strength left in his body, Jericus inched out across the yawning chasm, clinging to the treacherous pipes like a great, terrified limpet. More than once, his feet slipped, his life eager to flash in front of his eyes – the cut cables prevented him from plummeting, however, his boots finally kissing the decking on the other side of the shaft.

Up ahead, the door hung open, its hinges rattling a little in the wind as rain drifted in over the threshold. It was difficult to believe, but it looked like he had found the exit.

[Thanatos 51-50]

Red edged closer to the perilously dangling humans, attempting to acquire visual identification, sorely wished his craft was armed,and engaged the vox.
"Acolyte-Armsman Red. I need to speak to an Ordo Xenos Interrogator or Inquisitor. Immediately. This vessel has been commandeered from the surface, the hull read 'Byzantine'. I cannot provide further information."

[LCP]

Red

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Bringing the lighter in close to the hive wall, he passed as close as he dared - before they disappeared behind him, he saw the faces of the dangling figures clearly. Olympus and Heironymous, pulling themselves up by the assassin’s grapnel-gun.

“Receiving you, Armsman,” came the vox. There was a sudden tone of urgency in the man’s voice. “Please confirm your authorising Inquisitor immediately.”

[Destro_Yersul]

"Looks like someone's found us. Here's hoping they're friendly." A note of hope has, at last, entered the Provost's voice. If the stealer fell, or if the lander could pick them up, they'd be home free.

[Saldre]

"Were not out of this yet- keep climbing!"

Olympus keeps on going up.

[LCP]

Heironymous & Olympus

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There was a groan of metal from beneath them - the rusty plate in which the Genestealer's claws were lodged was slowly buckling under its weight, rivets popping out of their holes as the steel rectangle began to fold. Perhaps the downdraught of the lighter's engines had been the final straw.

Acting quickly, the creature pushed off with its legs, propelling itself up the side of the hive wall like a monstrous flea - claws shrieked against the tarnished hide of the hive without gaining purchase, the Xenos beast scrabbling for purchase for one heart-stopping moment before losing its grip. With a furious scream, it plummeted towards the rocks below, dwindling to a tumbling speck that vanished from sight.

[hr]

Jericus

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As the tech-priest approached the door, he heard an inhuman wail, growing louder by the moment - looking fearfully round, he stepped back in alarm as the spindle-limbed form of a Genestealer flashed past the open door, seemingly falling from a great height. Its animal scream dwindled away to nothing - clearly there was a very high drop on the other side of the door.

[hr]

Red

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As the Armsman brought the lighter around, he saw the Genestealer's treacherous handhold give way, the alien propelling itself up the hive wall in a desperate bid to reach its prey. For a moment, it scrambled - then it fell, tumbling over and over down into the roaring waves below.

It was a long way to fall. Red doubted even the Genestealer could survive that.

[Thanatos 51-50]

"Authorising Inquisitor is Inquisitor Al-Subaai of the Ordo Xenos." Red snapped off in response before quickly attempting to locate a method of communicating with the provost and moritat dangling from the line, simultaneously looking for a hover function or something similar to allow them to board the craft easily.

[Etcetera]

Jericus slowly made his way to the door, attempting to look up and out over the threshold and see what exactly had lead to a screaming horror hurtling down.

OOC: Ok, that was amusing.

[LCP]

Red

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"Affirmative!" came the voice over the vox. "Do not come into land! Repeat -"

There was the sudden sound of a commotion, and the vox cut out. Trying to focus on the matter at hand, Red searched for something - anything - to allow him to pick up the dangling Acolytes. The lighter was V.T.O.L.-capable, but there was no way it could hover in these winds - to boot, the doors to the hold were manually operated. The only way to get them open would be to trust in the machine-spirit of the autopilot.

If the bastard Star Children had not taken their microbeads, he might have been able to raise the other acolytes over vox. But then they hadn't taken Olympus'....

OOC: Tech-Use test to tune the vox to the microbead channel.

[hr]

Jericus

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There was a rusty, forgotten gantry on the other side of the doorway, hardly looking any more stable than the bridge currently lying at the bottom of the shaft behind him - its access ladder had long since been shorn away by the elements, leaving it clinging to the near-vertical hive wall like a forlorn iron barnacle.

Below, the lowest layers of Hive Sibellus gave way to the sheer sea-cliffs on which the great city had been built, over a kilometre of glistening black granite stretching down to the immense, crashing waves at their base. Above, the intricate spires of the hive stabbed into the sooty sky, Port Tabernos' open mouth yawning perhaps a hundred metres above the forgotten access-way.

A better-maintained gantry ran sideways out over the hive wall from the corner of the shuttle-port - dangling from it like a pair of peculiar-looking spiders, Heironymous and Olympus were clinging to a grapnel-wire, the mechanisms in the assassin's tool slowly drawing them upwards. A battered-looking Arvus lighter was tracking them, slowly swinging round to approach them again as it battled the wind and the rain blowing in off the ocean...

[Thanatos 51-50]

Red heaved his weight against the cockpit, trying to open it a little bit, since he was having trouble tuning the vox-caster to Olympus's microbead, edging the Lighter against the wind, he yelled through the howling storm outside.
"Olympus! Heironymus! Port Tabernos isn't safe! Get aboard! I'll try to hold her steady!"