Knowledge Is Power [Dark Heresy] - IC

[Thanatos 51-50]

"The sergant is in this vault? Who else came here with your squad?"

[LCP]

Red & Jericus

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"See, now you're asking questions I oughtn't answer. You want to know how many of us there are? More than you can handle. You kill me, you're only going to make things worse for yourselves. So why don't you tell me who you're with first, and then maybe we can talk more."

[Destro_Yersul]

With both the grenade thrown and the flamer fired, Hieronymus got out from the on-fire cover as quickly as he could, approaching the two mechanicus at a low crouch. He swept his sword up as he reached Ferox, the blade humming through the air.

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To hit:(1d100)[94] vs 38
damage: (1d10+3)[13] Rending damage, pen 2

EDIT: Well that sucks. Righteous fury, but I missed.

[Thanatos 51-50]

"Well, let's see if you can't figure it out. My squad consists of representatives from quite a few of the more major Imperial Organizations. We're among the best at what we do, we operate semi-autonomously, and we had the clearance to get past a Mechanus without resorting to violence or stealth."

[EleventhHour]

Well, they did burn, more than she did, and with praise to the Emperor on her lips, she drops the flamer, lightly, since the provost had decided to step directly into the way of another burst of flame, drawing her Moonblade, and waiting for a clear path to charge into the melee herself, unless the psyker could do something about the mechanical monstrosities in the meantime.

[LCP]

The gout of flame from Katyra’s gun hit the Secutor square in the chest: with a roaring whoomph, his Mechanicus robes ignited, mechadendrites flailing wildly as the charred meat-puppet staggered back under the blast. The roiling wall of fire enveloped the Servitor too, skin blackening and peeling from the white flesh of its donor body – systems shorting and sparking, it staggered wildly, collapsing against the staircase with a blurt of scrambled machine code.

There was no respite for the machines – as the Sister’s fires cleared, Ignace’s firebomb came arcing in, bouncing off the Servitor’s armour-plated skull and striking the bookcases opposite them. The incendiary ignited in a blossoming inferno, a palpable backwash of heat rushing across the chamber – burning from head to foot, the Servitor writhed on the ground, trying to right itself with its one human arm. The books themselves were ablaze, black smoke pouring up towards the ceiling as the fires began to spread.

Heironymous barrelled through the thickening vapours, his sword slashing round – the Secutor’s lolling skull rolled in its armoured collar as the thing lurched forwards, the Provost’s sword slicing through empty air alone.

Taking one stamping, hydraulic stride to Heironymous’ left, the Secutor’s augmetic leg dragged the rest of his body after it – mechadendrites shot out, anchoring themselves to the shelves like metallic lampreys to support the weight of the Tech-Priest’s charred remains. Tongues of flame still dripping from its robes, the thing’s bionic arm hefted its axe off the floor – Heironymous’ eyes widened as a blue power-field crackled into being around the head of the weapon, the mechanical limb driving it towards him with inhuman strength...

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DeadFerox takes a half move to prop himself against the bookshelves, then attacks with the axe.

(1d100)[93] - miss, which is good, because I botched the damage roll.
Dodge (I assume you don’t parry, since the axe has a decent chance of obliterating your sword if you do): (1d100)[79]
Damage: (2d5+5)[8] (Pen 6)

The axe hummed over Heironymous' head, the augmetics' movements slow enough to predict - Heironymous knew that a single hit, however, could well reduce him to little more than organic slurry.

The Servitor, meanwhile, was hauling itself to its feet: preserved flesh still blistering and burning, it lumbered forwards, scanning erratically for a target...

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Burning damage for the end of the round: the Servitor is immune due to its Machine trait and armour plating, while the Secutor takes (1d10)[3] - 7 wounds: soaked

OOC: Back to you guys. here's your map.

[hr]

Red & Jericus

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"Not too keen on guessing games, myself," said Gonville, warily. "Sounds like you could be anyone from Segmentum Command to the cog-head's boys."

[Destro_Yersul]

"None of that." Hieronymus growled at the Secutor. He flicked his sword at the axe's haft, aiming to knock the deadly thing to the ground where it could be kicked away.

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Taking a full action to disarm the Secutor. Opposed WS test, here's my half: (1d100)[11] VS 38, or 43 if this is an enclosed space. That's a pretty good roll. If I manage to beat the Secutor by three or more degrees, I end up holding the axe instead of knocking it away.

Interestingly enough, I just read the description of power field. Apparently, it's a defensive quality. Rules as written, you can parry an attack from one without destroying your weapon, but any parry made by a weapon with power field could destroy the attacker's weapon. The axe, though, is unwieldy, and can't be used to parry at all.

[senrath]

His part now done, the cowardly psyker moved quickly to the north, trying to keep himself hidden and hoping that his chameleon power would keep him from being detected.

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Silent Move test (opposed by Awareness):
(1d100)[36] vs 17. Please roll well.

[EleventhHour]

Katyra deciding to take her chances, and seeing as she's already burning and blistered from the secutor's attack, decides to take on the enflamed servitor, bounding toward it's downed frame and trying to slit the thing's throat while it's still down.

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Roll Vs WS (37) : (d100)[2] - Not sure of the modifiers (if any)
Damage : (1d10+3)[13]

:: Ooh.

[Thanatos 51-50]

"The correct answer, Trooper, is that we're any one of a bunch of guys who can make your life difficult or very easy. You will answer my question, or I will kill you and interrogate your corpse."
Even as he speaks, Red relaxes his rifle out of a shooting-ready stance in an attempt to project confidence.

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Ready action: Ready weapon (free action), semi-auto burst (full action) if he shifts into an agressive stance, readies a weapon or begins running. There's no way he knows I have Quick Draw.

[LCP]

Heironymous, Ignace & Katyra

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Charging into the lurching Servitor, Katyra’s blades flashed out in a flurried frenzy of blurred metal – there was a dull shearing noise, and the unit’s head span into the air, trailing brackish preservation liquid behind it. The body’s reaction was a little more dramatic, the pressure of the dead Servitor’s fluid transport systems spraying the stuff in all directions like an agrarium sprinkler as the flaming body hit the deck.

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Servitor is very dead; Katyra must pass an Agility test or take a -10 penalty to WS and BS for one round as blood/stuff gets in her eyes.

Taking another lumbering swing at Heironymous, the ex-Secutor found its power axe twisted from its grasp – mechanical fingers flexing and unflexing for a moment, it lunged at its opponent, trying to smash him to the ground. The force of the impact threw the Provost off his feet, the augmetic arm punching with the strength of an Ogryn - rolling as he hit the ground, he avoided the whirring blades of a mechadendrite that slammed down after him, a searing blast from one of the ballistic attachments pinging off the deck inches in front of him as he arrested his movement.

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DeadFerox attempts a Knockdown on Heironymous for a half-action.
DeadFerox - (1d100)[20] vs. Heironymous - (1d100)[53] - 3 degrees of success, Heironymous is on the floor, suffers 1 level of fatigue and takes damage (see OOC)
He then makes a Standard Attack with a utility mechadendrite
(1d100)[67] - miss
Parry: (1d100)[4]
Damage: (1d5+4)[5] (pen 2, non-primitive)
He then uses his Reaction to fire the laspistol ballistic mechadendrite.
(1d100)[53] - miss
Dodge: (1d100)[85]
Damage: (1d10+1)[5]

[hr]

Red & Jericus

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Gonville shook his head.

“Like I said, mister,” he said. “Worse things.”

He cocked his head to one side. “’Sides, I don’t reckon you’re going to pull that trigger. You kill me, you’re stuck. We string this along, maybe I’ll slip up.” He shrugged. “Right now, I’m thinking I’m all you’ve got.”

[Thanatos 51-50]

Red's lasgun snaps to his his shoulder and spits three red lances.

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+30 point blank, +10 semi-automatic
86ballistics - (1d100)[21]
damage - (1d10+5)[10]
(1d10+5)[10]
(1d10+5)[10]

[Destro_Yersul]

Hieronymus turned his roll into a spring, and was back on his feet in less time than it took to blink. The wind had been knocked out of him, but the provost wasn't about to let that stop him. He took aim for the dead Secutor's center mass and stepped forward, stabbing with his sword.

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(1d100)[70] vs 38. -10 for fatigue, but +10 for aiming

Aaaand that's a miss.

[EleventhHour]

Grinning with the power of the Emperor's grace running through her, covered in oil, blood, and who knows what else, with burning all over the back, and a dead servitor, Katyra does the only thing a reasonable Imperial servant would do. Tries to jump the Secutor, blade whirling.

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Agility : (d100)[48] vs 33
WS : (d100)[25] vs 37
Damage : (d10+3)[4]
Crit Confirm : (d100)[22] vs 37
Crit Damage : (d10)[9]

[LCP]

Heironymous, Katyra & Ignace

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Lurching forwards, the Secutor's bionic arm made to swing for Heironymous again - before it could do so, Katyra smashed into the smouldering thing from the side, her blades shrieking off plate metal beneath the charred rags of its robes.

Turning, the mechanical revenant's writhing mechadendrites lashed out towards its new attacker, its steel hand still reaching for Heironymous...

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Standard Attack on Katyra with utility mechadendrite.
(1d100)[77] - miss.
Parry: (1d100)[41]
Damage: (1d5+4)[6] (pen 2)

Uses reaction to fire laspistol mechadendrite at her too.
(1d100)[79] - miss
Dodge: (1d100)[75]
Damage: (1d10+1)[11]

The lashing tendrils of metal missed their mark, a las-blast singing over Katyra's shoulder as the Sororitas novice danced out of its path.

Behind them, the fire ignited among the bookshelves by Ignace's borrowed grenade was spreading, practically the whole shelf now alight - with black smoke boiling up towards the central stairwell, antiquated fire systems fizzed and spluttered into action, ports opening in the ceiling to lower little octagonal brass sprinklers into the room. With a quiet whssssh, they activated, sending drifts of water downward to quench the flames.

Steam rose from the Secutor's robes as the artificial rain enveloped them, bringing with it the sharp smell of metal from its storage reservoirs: their organic fuel already practically exhausted, the last few tongues of flame that licked the Tech-Priest's frame guttered and died.

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Final round of fire damage for DeadFerox: (1d100)[45] ARGHWRONGROLL

[hr]

Red & Jericus

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The first two of Red's shots slammed into Bromhead's arm, the man dropping his knife with a howl of pain - the third hit him squarely in the chest, smashing him to the ground with a smouldering hole in his fine red uniform.

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Rolling for critical effects (+2 to the right arm, +5 to the body):
Ag - (1d100)[28]
Fatigue - (1d5)[4]

The armour beneath the crimson tunic seemed to have taken the worst of the damage upon itself, Bromhead's chest still moving as he breathed - however, either the shock or the wound itself had rendered him unconscious.

[Thanatos 51-50]

Red immediatly seizes the oppertunity present in his incapacitated target, scoops up the fallen knife and immediatly begins looting the unconcius body of weapons, armour, ammo, and valubles.
He also checks the Trooper's ear for a commbead.

[Destro_Yersul]

Steadying his aim, Hieronymus slashed downwards at the Secutor once again. The thing was damaged now, he could see that. It would take just one good hit to end it.

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(1d100)[68] vs 38
(1d10+3)[4] Pen 2

EDIT: Three for three. I think the roller is back to hating me.

[EleventhHour]

Drawing the blade across metal was expected, but she was hoping to get it through rather than glancing off, and switches hands for an overhanded strike, waiting for the mechanical man to be distracted, as much as a robotic zombie can be distracted, then striking.

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To Hit* : (d100)[84] vs 37 + 10
Damage : (d10+3)[13]
Crit Confirm : (d100)[77] vs 37 + 10
Crit : (d10)[4]

* See OOC

[LCP]

Red & Jericus

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Rummaging through the man’s effects, Red located two spare power-packs for the man’s lasgun, as well as the menacing scored cylinder of a frag grenade: Bromhead seemed to be carrying nothing that would identify him, nothing about his person that was not a direct tool of his trade.

The knife itself was a heavy, long-bladed affair, easily the equal of a guard-issue bayonet; the lasgun standard-pattern but well-maintained. Beneath the scorched fabric of the man’s uniform, the dull gleam of some kind of mesh armour was visible – badly damaged now, punctured first by Red’s bayonet and then again by the point-blank volley from the Sollex. Nevertheless, the fact that its wearer was still breathing spoke volumes for its efficacy.

[hr]

Heironymous, Ignace & Katyra

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Weapons flashing through the stagnant rain of the sprinklers, Katyra drove forwards as the Provost’s attack caught the Secutor’s attention – if you could call it that. One crescent blade ripped through the socket of the mechadendrite that was holding the tech-priest’s body upright against the shelving, shearing through the mechanical tendril in a spray of sparks: the lumbering corpse toppled forwards, its skeletal steel arm flailing out to arrest its fall.

Stepping into its path, Katyra caught it instead, letting the hulking monster’s own tremendous weight do the work of driving her blade’s point through its torso. Somewhere within the charred ribcage, something sparked and crackled, noxious smoke venting from the Secutor’s augmetics. Twitching erratically, the nearest mechadendrite coiled up to reach for Katyra’s face, its intricate tool-head expanding in an intricate array of gleaming, whirring blades: as it reached for her, it grew slower and slower, juddering like a dying auto-engine before cutting out and falling slack mere inches from her eyes.

The other implants seemed to have fallen still as well – looking down, the Sister realised the Secutor’s bionic hand was in fact clamped around her ankle, sparks still spitting occasionally from the joints of the arm. The severed feeds of the plasma weapon had ceased to hiss, the only sign that the whole apparatus had ever moved at all the hot glow of the slowly cooling gun...

Heironymous Only

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Taking out the Secutor, Katyra had stepped directly in front of him – Heironymous felt the same lurch of revulsion he had felt before, the watching daemon scrabbling at the walls of his mind.

Getawaygetawaygetawaygetawaygetaway...

[Thanatos 51-50]

Red immediately busied himself removing the man's shirt and armour, using the knife to cut the sleeves off the former and use them as impromptu rope to hog-tie their captive.

He slid the lasgun and rolled the grenade towards Jericus, and looted the charge packs for himself, stuffing them in his bandoleer.
"We may want to check the other guy. If he was packing a frag as well, the grenade cooking off would be bad. Liberating the charges packs from the fire would likewise be useful."

[Destro_Yersul]

Hieronymus hastily backed away from Katyra, moving around the side of the fallen Secutor. "Think it's dead for good this time?" He asked her, looking down at the pile of broken augmetics. Then he looked at the axe in his hand. His sword would need another notch. For now, though, it was time to make sure the Secutor wouldn't be a threat if it 'woke up' again.

"Go find Ignace, and call the others. Make sure they're fine." With that, Hieronymus busied himself with clumsily using the axe, its humming power field active, to reduce the Ex-Secutor to its component parts.

[EleventhHour]

Staring the whirring machine in the face was one was to get a lot of tension, fast, and practically heaving out a breath she didn't know she was holding, she takes a halfstep back away from the robotic corpse and gives it a hard kick to the head. "By the Emperor's Thone I'm sure." Katyra anwsered him in kind, then turned to peer at the bookcases, "Where are you, psyker?"

[LCP]

Heironymous & Katyra

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Ignace poked his head around one of the rows of shelves as yet untouched by the flames - the psyker didn't seem particularly embarassed about having hidden himself away, still looking rather wary about approaching the fallen thing as Heironymous began to hack it into pieces with the glimmering axe. The sooty augmetics sparked and twitched under the dismembering blows, but whatever Katyra's blade had hit, it had clearly knocked out their power supply.

The bookshelf fire was still blazing away, too fierce for the sprinklers to immediately extinguish - nevertheless, their steady spray was slowly drenching the rest of the room, turning the books around it into sodden lumps of parchment and leather that stubbornly refused to ignite. They were also soaking the Acolytes to the skin, the water flattening their hair against their scalps and washing the soot and smoke of the fight from their clothes. Where it fell onto the Secutor's cooling plasma gun, it flashed into steam, the muzzle of the weapon still red-hot...

[Destro_Yersul]

Once his messy task is complete, and the Secutor thing is not likely to ever be a danger again, Hieronymus tries to raise Red on the comm. He's become increasingly relaxed now that Katyra has moved away. "Red? Status update, soon as you get a moment."

With that taken care of, the Provost made for higher ground, taking the Secutor's axe with him. It was time to get out of the downpour from the sprinklers. On his way up the stairs, he tried the Library comm again as well. "Decatologue Vale. Do you copy?"

[Thanatos 51-50]

"One target KIA, the second unconscious. Prisoner has been hog-tied, currently policing weapons, ammunition and armour. No ID or licenses present. Trooper claim to be House Rhodes troop. Implied there were others on-scene."

[LCP]

From Vale's end of the line, there was only comm-static. If the Adept could hear them, he wasn't responding.

[Destro_Yersul]

Abandoning the hope that putting the Secutor down might have opened the Comm channels again, Hieronymus flips the library comm back off and answers Red.

"Secutor's been put down again. Mechanicus isn't going to be happy, but he was dead already. I've got his axe for safekeeping. What's your location? The others and I will come meet up with you." Turning back down the stairs, Hieronymus calls to the others. "Ignace, Katyra, let's go find Red. Potentially other hostiles in the area, so keep an eye open."

[Thanatos 51-50]

"We're down in the stacks where the runners escaped to. Going to be moving back to the lectern as soon as we're done policing their effects. Where do you want to rendezvous?" Red replied simply.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Meet us on the bridge." Hieronymus clicked his comm back off, and focused on climbing the stairs, hoping the others would follow.

[EleventhHour]

Grabbing her flamer back up, and slicking her wet hair back, she smiles. Judgement meted. The dead, dead. One soul, mechanicus or not, condemned to the Emperor's Judgement, hopefully not forgivingly, Katyra added, somewhat spitefully, making the sign of the Emperor over the corpse. "More cosigned to thier fate, more to burn in the holy flames. Let us find the heretics, and show them."

She peers at the psyker, "Come along, coward." It's true, isn't it? And it's not like the psyker could do anything about it, even if he was inclined.