Dark Heresy 2e: Beyond Desoleum [IC]

[dojango]

Victory for the Inquisition!

You all received the same coded missive. ++Inquisitorial Kill-team Alpha has uncovered a deadly ritual taking place out in the wastelands. You are to form into a new squad, designated "Inquisitorial Support-team Kappa 5", pick up a truck from the designated contact and travel to co-ordinates 37.9843, 114.2052. DO NOT APPROACH THE RITUAL SITE UNTIL ORDERED TO BY INTERROGATOR MANLEY. Await further instructions.++ Dropping whatever your current tasks for the Inquisition were, you headed to the designated contact just outside one of the many exits of Hive Desoleum. A few gangers approached. One handed a set of keys to Anton, pointing at a battered Helix-pattern light cargo transport. Although the truck had seen better years, perhaps better decades, this pattern is renowned for its reliability. The truck was loaded with a survival kit, one week's of rations, 4 fuel cans, 6 empty wood crates, and 4 strange metal crates, lined with holy symbols and hexagrammatic wards. Once you had picked up the truck, the team had driven all day out to the rendezvous point. 200 miles as the death-crow flies, it had been nearly 400 miles of winding, treacherous roads through the shattered wastes of Desoleum. Fortunately, the Emperor seemed to smile on your journey, and it passed without incident. The team arrived at the rendezvous point shortly after dusk, and concealed itself behind a slag-heap.

The cult had begun their strange and unholy ritual just before midnight. But they were no match for Inquisitorial kill-team Alpha, heroes of the Inquisition. Interrogator Buck Manley leapt out of the circling flyer, 300 meters up. Grav-chute flaring, he descended into the midst of the crowd, his twin bolt-pistols 'Redemption' and 'Justice' delivering the Emperor's wrath. From the edges, infiltrator Sevanah Saberfury whipped off her disguise and cut through the frenzied crowd with her powerblades. Reinforcements poured out of the nearby camp, ready to cut down the intruders. Magos Triarius giggled as he set off the mines lining the path, before he started hurling grenades with his three bionic arms whenever clusters of cultists tried to band together. A few dozen made a desperate break for freedom and the relative safety of the night, only to be met by battle-sister Myrah of the Silent Pillar and her heavy flamer, which laid waste to the fleeing horde. In the darkness, the team's psyker sat quietly, communing with his strange powers. Pieces of scrap-metal and heavy rocks launched across the battlefield, smashing bone and flesh with ease. Above it all, Count Tollfred von Rachfelt circled in the team's flyer, strafing the enemy as they fled in terror. To your surprise and annoyance, the kill-team had been ordered to stay out of the way. "We've worked together for years," Manley had said over the comm-band, "and we can't have outsiders getting in the way. If we need you, we'll call you in. Wait at the rendezvous point until the fighting stops." Magos Triarius had graciously allowed you to watch a vid-feed from one of his floating servo-skulls "for training purposes", so you could observe the fight. As it surveys the battlefield, you can see a handful of cultists trying to sneak away along an unguarded trail. Well, almost unguarded... you realize that in a moment, the fleeing cultists are going to stumble right over your hiding spot...

[Caellath]

Anton had been out of his depth ever since he'd been taken in by the Inquisition, following orders and trying to follow the flow of things. While the truck's controls weren't the same as a submergible's, they were close enough and he'd quickly learned how to deal with the machine's quirks. The soldier had even gotten familiarized with the pre-shift purring and trembling that happened the moment between the fourth and fifth gears, as if the truck was asking for some more speed. But then then they arrived at the planned location.

His brown-skinned face, spotted by several blotches of burn-healed fair skin, poked out of the helmet as he aimed his long-las at path the enemies were taking and from where they were going to appear from. Weapon braced against his shoulder, Anton breathed out. ++Cultists escaping our way. Relocate or intercept?++ he called and asked over the radio, keeping the nervousness in his voice down as he reported the situation.

[Hemnon]

Sister Natalia

In order to both keep a low, functional profile, but also do what she does best, Natalia had been set up with the local Ecclesiarchal Alms Cathedral, making use of her skills as a healer and caretaker of the sick, injured and needy. It was an ideal position to work, due to her Order granting her free reigns on travelling just about anywhere she was needed in the Hive (even outside it), Be it up to the top of the noble-spire area, or down into the lowest Arbitrator-crackdown underhive areas. She of course didn't just flaunter herself around without protection, she wasn't stupid after all. She knew that just about anyone could do her harm if she just took a trip to gangland alone.

Today tho, with the cryptic message, Natalia met up at the designated spot and had met her new team members. She had still yet to fully get used to taking orders from someone not the Prioress on her homeworld, or some highranking cardinal of the Ecclesiarchy requesting for alms-giving to the masses, etc. etc
Taking orders and being under the command of someone of the inquisition.... it was a strange experience, much less a trial upon her core beliefs and education. Stuff like suffer not the witch to live and kill the mutant before it's taint can spread.... it was all very nice words when taught the doctrine at the Convent. Reality however made strange bedfellows. She's had to leave Mutants live and just shy from Psykers due to imperial decree leaving them free from the sanctioning they deserve. However she had taken her time to turn this oddity into a trial, set to her by the Emperor in order to challenge and affirm her faith. Who was she to judge those of superior rank and station? those that can see a wider picture and thusly command certain edicts. Yes, she could accept this, even if it was a challenge to stay on the path of acceptance.

Natalia had made little small-talk during the truck-gathering and the drive itself, although anyone speaking to her would of course be answered with a prim and mildly-toned reply.
She'd really liked that Interrogator, and had approved of the name of one of those Boltpistols of his. Redemption indeed. Only a mass-reactive exploding shell would be the only way such heretics like the cultists they were all hunting, could be redeemed. Death is the final offer of redemption, so say The Emperor of Mankind, may his eternal light protect and bless us all.

She'd accepted the 'stand by, and do not interfere order quite well, compared to some others from the group', she was after all to accept and follow the commands of her superiors during inquisitorial work, as if it was the Prioress of her own home convent that had given the other. Said prioress had given her this final order before Natalia had left for Hive Desoleum, originally.

Upon hearing, as well as also noticing those fleeing cultists were running their way, Natalia silently slipped on her respirator-mask and pulled out her Laspistol. Then came the gentle prayer of keeping everyone safe, to protect against the horrid influence of those touched by the corruptive influence of chaos, as well as a final prayer for their souls, asking the emperor to care for them if they are still within the realm of redemption. All of this could of course be heard by her team members, those soft words of her passing through the respirator filter almost untarnished, clean and soothing to the spirit.
She was as always in her armored Hospitaller-Bodyglove, the red-white heraldry of her order fluttering from her nunnery veil and from the open-gaps, giving her a long-skirt appearance, with the cloth hanging to her knees.
"The Emperor Protects, everyone~" Was her last words of her prayers. She had not broadcast this over her micro-bead of course, she had just vocalized it out normally with no need for doing it over the comms-net. She gave a final reassuring gaze at the Forge-Worlder, Anton, having noticed his slight show of nerves.

[PotatoGolem]

Crescendo had accompanied the truck on his bike, sweeping out to patrol the area. He didn't do well sitting around doing nothing. Since being ordered to wait, he had been smoking a lho-stick, leaning up against his bike. No one had ordered him not to. Not that he'd have listened, but still. The lean, scarred feral wasn't overly polite, but he wasn't the standoffish sort either. Not sure why that buncha fraggin' showoffs dragged us out here just to watch them fight. Hardly need this many just to drive some mediocre frakking truck.

When the cultists started down the path, he lit up. Well, looks like we'll get some real frakking action now. Don' worry, Anton, I'll leave some killin for ya. He smiled at the driver and checked his bike's autoguns.

[Col.Straken]

Greil had only recently learned of the Inquisition when he 'arrived' on this planet. He hadn't even been told where he was, just that he had a new job now to serve the Emperor. He was fine with that, he loved the Emperor, even more so since his homeworld got swallowed by the Warp and he had to dodge those horrors. He had been one of the first to the truck, just because he had nothing better to do anyway, kept on house arrest until told to head off to do something. The Inquisition were suspicious of him, kept saying that amount of time in the Warp was going to mess with people, he felt fine though.

During the drive to the site he tried to make small talk with the others though most seemed like professionals unlike himself, not that he told them that. Greil tightened his sword strap and checked his Auto Pistol again to make sure they were working. When they got to the ritual site he watched in amazement as the Alpha team carried out their grizzly work.

When the fleeing cultists broke off and started to head towards them his eyes widened, “Frak, why this way?!” he muttered before fumbling for his trusty stummer, turning it on as he readied his weapons. He tried to find a comfortable spot to hide behind the slag heap and idled the chainsword quietly trusting the stummer would cover its grunting.

[BloodyMagpie]

Carn was lounging in the passenger seat of the truck smoking a lho-stick and idly watching the feed from the Kill-Team. His muscular frame, faded non-descript fatigues, dented heavy armor, and scarred face all hinted that, even if he wasn't a proper Guardsman, was nevertheless someone used to the soldier's lifestyle. Crazy nutters... oh God-Emperor, does every Interrogator have to be crazy? He's almost as bad as my first one...

When Anton spotted the incoming cultists, Carn gave a muttered swear as he jumped out of the cab and immediately dove for the slag pile. "Pretty sure our orders were all too clear to hold here unfortunately. So get ready."

He readied his weapons while quietly bemoaning his lack of a longarm. Unfortunately, there had been a slight disagreement with the quartermaster before the mission that ended with Carn the loser, and as a result, he had nothing heavier than his sidearm to rely on in a firefight. Hopefully the fleeing cultists wouldn't be any better off.

[Caellath]

The voices of the strangers around him and the quiet acknowledgment by Natalia were soothing to a degree, which felt weird since he'd always spent most of his time alone, either while on duty or out of it. Maybe the thought of having more people in the same situation was comforting at a deep level, companions being swept by the same currents as he'd been.

While he'd been part of a PDF, Anton didn't look the part of a hardy soldier. His dark gray flak armor and navy-colored fatigues looked more like something made for a pilot or operator of sorts, with the survival suit and weathered auspex hanging from one of the vest's straps adding the impression he'd been geared for a trek in the boondocks.

But while he wasn't too sociable or experienced, there were probably some basic optimal strategies to be adopted. "...Spare em-thirty-six kantrael-pattern lasgun. Borrow it if you want to." he said, gesturing loosely towards the spare lasgun on his back while he cradled his long-las in a vaguely-competent marksman posture, then securing cover and a firing position.

Spoiler: OOC/Actions

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So if there's time Anton is grabbing cover and setting up an Overwatch aimed at the area the cultists are coming from, then opening up on them as soon as they appear in the absence of further orders.

Also someone can borrow the standard lasgun he has.

[dojango]

The fleeing cultists were carefully keeping a small ridge between them and the massacre of their comrades. They are too busy fleeing the danger behind them to see the death that waited in front of them. At about 40 meters out, they are perfectly silhouetted in the moonlight. A whispered snap from Anton's long-las, and one of the cultists staggers. He drops, screams, and tries to flail into the meager cover offered by the ground. The other cultists look around wildly, crouching down. One of them points towards the slag heap. "Sniper!" one of them shouts. "Get him!" says another one, although they are too surprised to make any immediate movement.

Spoiler: Combat!

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Cultists initiative: (1d10+3)[5]. You guys can take your surprise round. They are 40 meters out. The slag-heap will offer decent cover (16 points), anywhere else will have minimal cover (4 points for laying prone behind dirt). The ground between you and them is hard-packed dirt with a few straggly scrubs and the occasional loose stone.

[Caellath]

Combat put him back in his depth. Of course cultists weren't anything like predatory monster with terrifying appearances that kept surfacing to try and swallow you whole, but that only made it easier for him to put them in the long-las' iron sights and pull the trigger. Anton's mind raced as he fell back to basic combat rules.

"Suppress, pick them off." he said with a voice that sounded almost triumphant and a little bit proud as he repeated the surface emergency drill. He'd stopped using that upon reassignment to the submersibles, but there were times when their surfacecraft would be swarmed...

Then he squeezed his long-las closer to him and aimed down its sights yet again to aim another shot at any cultist that appeared to be the most dangerous one, taking a deep breath then breathing out as he flipped the selector to the Overcharge mode and squeezed the trigger.

Spoiler: OOC/Actions

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TL;DR: Anton is suggesting someone opens up with Suppressing Fire. Someone with a subpar ranged weapon and/or low BS is a good choice.

Initiative: 9
Half Action: Aim at the cultist that seems to be the most dangerous (or the closest).
Half Action: Fire! BS 40 +10 Short Range +10 Aim +10 Accurate +10 Standard Attack +30 Surprised Enemies = TN 100 (max +60 bonus)

Result: One shot causing 21 Energy damage, Pen 1, Felling (4) to the enemy's Body. (link)

[bluntpencil]

"Holding position as ordered," grunts Bukharin, still mounted on his motorcycle, taking advantage of the cover provided by the slag heap.

Spoiler

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Set up overwatch should enemies approach.

[BloodyMagpie]

Carn shook his head as the cultists realized they were fully exposed to the waiting ambushers. I almost pity the poor dumb bastards. Ah well, shouldn't have been a bunch of stinking heretics.

Out loud, he acknowledged Anton's request. "Got it, I'll put the fear of the God-Emperor into them!"

He swept his arm sending a sustained burst of fire from the autopistol, not bothering to aim as he focused on getting his scattered shots as close to as many of them as possible.

Spoiler: OOC

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Full Action: Suppressing Fire
BS 35 - 20 (Suppressing Fire) + 30 (Surprised Target) = TN 45. Roll in OOC Thread.
Attack missed hitting any of them, but all targets in a 45 degree cone in front of Carn must pass a (-20) Willpower Test or be Pinned.

[Hemnon]

Sister Natalia

Natalia headed straight for the closest cover and got down behind it, laspistol in hand, intoning a prayer to the emperor, offering protection to herself and the rest of the team.
However, she wasn't gonna shoot. she was not really within pistol-range, so to speak. And her Laspistol wasn't truely meant to kill. It was made to sanction. Best way to do that is when the enemy is dying or incapacitated, or if an ally is bleeding out and is unable to be saved.
(yeah not really gonna do any firing, just stay safe behind cover.)

[PotatoGolem]

Finally, some frakking action! We ride eternal, shiny and chrome! Crescendo mounts the bike, shooting a burst from the autogun at the closest cultist before taking off on a wide sweep to try an outflank them.

Spoiler: OOC

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Half action shoot: (1d100)[90] vs 85 (45+30 surprised +10 half range +0 semi-auto)
Damage (1d10+3)[7], (1d10+3)[13](1d10+3)[4] pen 0

Half action move- move 35m to end up more than 50m away from them and try to get around their cover.

[Gunhaven]

Silvanto had fallen asleep on the truck in an out of the way corner and remained silent the entire journey. He could vaguely pass off as a tech priest if someone wasn't too aware of the Mechanicus but even a vague inspection showed that everything was...off. The massive axe clarified that the cyborg was more scholar than anything. The hum of the engine was enough to keep him asleep the entire trip as he kept to his own little heap.

The sound of combat, though, was enough to jerk him awake. He quickly looked around, grabbing his rifle, and found what was being shot at. He then let out a shot at one of the cultist that still stood.

Spoiler: Actions

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Init: (1d10+3)[12]
Half Action: "Stand".
Half Action: Shoot Sniper Rifle.
Attack: (1d100)[100] vs 97 (37 BS + 10 Standard + 10 Accurate + 10 Short Range + 30 Surprised)
Damage: (1d10+4)[7] Impact, Pen 4.

[Col.Straken]

Griel stuck his head out of cover for a brief second and saw the cultists in the moonlight, too far away for his pistol. He ducked back down and prepared himself counting their steps waiting until he was sure they were going to be in range. "Why the frak me." he mutters under his breath.

Spoiler: OOC

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Griel is going to go into overwatch waiting for the cultists to get within 30m.

[Novabomb]

Harrison Jones
Heeds the words of his commanding officer, and does not move to engage. If the criminal scum come within arm reach of his position, he will apprehend them with excessive force.

He berates his fellows in a gravely voice: We were commanded to hold position. What do you think your doing?

[Caellath]

"This is our position, and by the Emperor-Omnissiah we'll hold it." Came Anton's reply while getting another shot lined up, obviously using a more military definition of holding. As far as he knew, as soon as there weren't further clarifications from the comms after he asked for them, it was the time to aggressively hold the line and their position against all enemies.

[dojango]

With a smooth manuever, Silvanto lifts his rifle to his eye and can see the cultist's face in the scope. He pulls the trigger, and there is a loud snap. The sound of an ignored machine spirit refusing to co-operate. From Carn's position, he lets an erratic burst from his autopistol towards the cultists. Two of them drop into cover, but three more of them spot the acolytes and begin advancing. It's hard to say which is the most dangerous. Certainly not the injured one cowering behind a small rock. One of the advancing ones seems to move with purpose, and so with a decisive shot, Anton sends a lasblast through his chest. The man's robes catch fire as he runs, screaming for a few moments, before collapsing in a heap. Meanwhile, the blast from Crescendo's autogun misses the cultists, so he manuevers his bike to a flanking position, where he can see the enemy lit up in his headlight. Vasily and Griel hold their fire, waiting for the enemy to advance. Natalia and Harrison remain in cover behind the large slag heap, waiting in case the enemy moves to melee. Three of them are trying to conceal themselves on the ground, while two bolder cultists have drawn swords.

Spoiler

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The cultist's initiative is 5, so anyone with a higher initiative can go now. Three of the cultists are pinned, one is dead, and two are ready for action.

[PotatoGolem]

Frakking hell! Crescendo curses, lining up a shot and firing on one of the advancing cultists.

Spoiler: OOC at initiative 8

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Aim and shoot(1d100)[5] vs 65 (45+10 aim+10 single shot)

Damage (1d10+4)[11] pen 0

[Gunhaven]

Silvanto looks at his rifle as if it personally offended him, muttering under his breath "Right, I hadn't used you in a month..." He sighs as he attempts to unjam the gun and sooth the spirit within all while getting out his backup revolver in case any of them survived the coming storm.

Spoiler: Actions

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Unjamming Fun Times!
(1d100)[99] vs 37

Getting out the ole Stub Revolver in case I need it in the near future.

[Caellath]

"One down! One down." Anton could barely contain the enthusiasm in his voice. Not that killing was in itself good and the body-shot he nabbed the cultist with did leave them burning alive horribly, but he was doing his job and taking down heretics, which was the fulfilling part of the feat.

Maybe he ended up getting just a bit too enthusiastic as, after taking aim once more the long-las lets out its familiar hiss-snak cracking sound and the lance of blue energy misses one of the approaching figures by a good bit.

Spoiler: OOC/Actions

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Initiative: 9
Long Las Mag: 35/40
Half Action: Aim at one of the approaching cultists.
Half Action: Fire! BS 40 +10 Short Range +10 Aim +10 Accurate +10 Standard Attack = TN 80

Result: A miss. (link)

[BloodyMagpie]

Carn sighed as he sighted down one of the cultists foolhardy enough not to dive for cover. This time, he was careful to aim his shots and was certain he had his target dead to rights. "Serves you right for standing in the open like that ya dumb heretic."

Spoiler: OOC

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Half Action: Aim
Half Action: Full Auto Burst, targeting one of the armed cultists in the open. Rolls in OOC. Three hits dealing 7 and 7 to the Body and 6 to an Arm, all Pen 0 Impact damage.

[dojango]

From Crescendo's flanking position, he easily guns down one of the cowering cultists. Carn also hits one of the standing men, who goes sprawling in a bloody heap. Anton's las blast misses the other standing man, however, and Silvanto realizes that the bullet has broken and fragmented within the chamber of the gun, and will require a little more time to clear. One of the prone cultists sprays some hasty shots around the cover where Anton is hiding, while the other pulls out his autogun... and nothing happens. The standing cultist runs quickly to the other side of the slag heap, out of sight from the acolytes by the heap, although Crescendo from his flanking position can see him.

[Hemnon]

Sister Natalia

Natalia intoned a prayer to the emperor, to guide her aim true and straight, took aim and squeezed the trigger of her Laspistol. "Oh glorious Emperor, guide my aim and strike true on this heretic, for I shall not suffer the heretical to live, I shall not allow their lies to spread." She muttered, cleanly audioable to the rest over the Micro-bead connection, if any of the others had such, otherwise they had to be close to hear her.
Her aim was straight and true, going right for that cultist's head.
(Dice Rolls Here) - In short, does 5 Energy Damage to the head of that cultist.

[Caellath]

"Flank, flank." Anton called when he noticed the movement of the approaching cultist, though he decided to keep focusing on aimed single-shots at the visible foes. He took a deep breath in an attempt to ease away the annoyance of having missed a shot and then squeezed the trigger once more after a moment of aiming.

Spoiler: OOC/Actions

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Initiative: 9
Long Las Mag: 33/40
Half Action: Aim at one of the visible cultists. Since it seems the only remaining one on the approach is out of LoS, take down the ones in crappy cover, preference for the one previously tagged by Anton.
Half Action: Fire! BS 40 +10 Short Range +10 Aim +10 Accurate +10 Standard Attack = TN 80

Result: 22 Energy damage, Pen 1. (link)

[Gunhaven]

Silvanto sighed and muttered "Not a lot I can do with that right now" as he set it near the perpetual project that was his choppa and shifted his position. He aimed his revolver at the slag heap and attempted to aim it at one of the cultist at the edge of his reliable range, whispering "Be reliable, old friend, so that I may repair your cousin" as he pulled the trigger.

Spoiler: Action

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Half: Aim, Half: Shoot
Attack: (1d100)[9] vs 57 (BS 37 +10 Aim +10 Standard)
Damage: (1d10+3)[13]
Crit roll

[dojango]

Sister Natalia and Silvanto both aim for the shooting cultist. He flinches as the lasblast grazes his head, and then slumps over in his position as Silvanto's shot hits him squarely in the face. From Anton's perch, he looks down the sights towards the last shooter, who is frantically struggling with his weapon. Anton ends his struggles with a powerful shot, punching through his meager cover and slicing through the man's leg.

[BloodyMagpie]

With the others dealt with, Carn shifted over towards the side of the slag pile to try and find the last remaining cultist. "Yeah, I saw him too Anton, I'll try and find him. Hey Crescendo, you got a bead on that last one?!"

Spoiler: OOC

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Full Action: Full Move to the side of the slag pile where the cultist ran towards.

[Caellath]

"Got another one!" The bitter pill of recent failure was easier to swallow when immediately preceded and followed by success. Anton didn't have much time to enjoy a shred of satisfaction, since there was still the matter of the missing cultist, and it had to be taken care as fast as possibe.

Spoiler: OOC/Actions

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Round 4

Initiative: 9
Long Las Mag: 33/40

Depending on how far the enemy cult
Full Action: Sidle along the pile to get LoS to the flanking cultist, stick to cover and making sure to stay out of their charging distance.

[PotatoGolem]

Crescendo chuckles, his voice getting louder and louder as his vox implant kicks in. He starts singing one of the ancient war-dirges of his people, his voice eerie and distorted, as he takes aim and fires. RUN TO THE HIIIIILLS... RUN FOOOOR YOUUUUR LIIIIIIIIIIVES!

Spoiler: OOC

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Aim and shoot.
(1d100)[14] vs 65, damage (1d10+4)[13] pen 0.

And a little Iron Maiden reference to get the party started...