Turn 6 Thread

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Turn 6 Thread

Post by The GM on Thu Sep 29, 2016 8:35 am

[It is Turn 6. All Secondary Objectives are available for completion. Please use this thread for posting this week.]

Gracious goes to sit with the deacon, who has been 'meditating' in a chair in the tea-room. Callum has found that whatever Gracious gave to the deacon - that strange, blue pill - has had a somewhat powerful comedown, weakening his will and fatiguing his body. By the time Gracious comes to talk with the possessed holy man, the effects are starting to wear off, and Callum is feeling much better in Deacon Brauer's body.

If Callum allows, Gracious makes conversation with him about the history of the Makuu, and asks questions directed at gaining the deacon's perspective on the hierarchy of the cathedral. Does Callum converse with Gracious freely?

****

Elsewhere, Sergeant Graves paces up and down in a dimension betwixt reality and the warp. He has heard screams in the distance - screams not of pain, but torn from the throats of bestial, daemonic creatures. He is worried. The feasting in Sadaka is over, and now the monsters swarm to those weaknesses in the veil that Callum has created. The sergeant does not have long. 

He tests his weapons, getting used to the weight of the hellblade. If he is going to go down, he will go down swinging, and endeavours to cut apart dozens of the beasts before he succumbs to his wounds. Though the aim of the game is not glorious death, but to hold them off while Callum secures his release from this hell. How does Graves prepare the mansion for defence?

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Re: Turn 6 Thread

Post by Stonebreath on Thu Sep 29, 2016 12:49 pm

Graves constructs a choke point by piling furniture around the entrance to one of the larger rooms.

His plan is to funnel the beasts through this entrance so he can fight them one by one.

"Here we go," he mutters, grimly to himself, "at least I get to die free."

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Re: Turn 6 Thread

Post by The GM on Thu Sep 29, 2016 2:06 pm

Through Callum's will, the deacon smiles at the sight of Gracious, and is soon "cajoled" into talking about the history of the Grand Makuu. He tells Gracious that it was built at the birth of the planet's Subjugation, its final consecration ceremony marking the official beginning of Imperial dominance over the heathen world. "Not," Callum's deacon adds darkly, "That the primitives have forgotten their ways of sin."

The deacon's soul is Callum's to plunder, and he begins to recount information as if the deacon had his own will. He tells Gracious that this history began over three hundred years ago, before the deacon was alive. He notes that Drill Abbot Gerlinde Forst was present at the consecration ceremony, then a celebrated battle preacher who had fought tooth and nail for the subjugation of the enemy. The first and only cardinal of the Grand Makuu was Cardinal Julian Schraubstock of Juno, a fiery, pitiless servant of the Creed who first declared Holy Crusade against Swaadi and was made Imperial Governor upon the war's completion. As the cardinal became more engrossed in projects across the entire world, it became convenient for him to appoint a deacon of the cathedral to run things in his stead. The tradition of deacons having stewardship of the Makuu has survived the cardinal's death, and Alfred Brauer is the fourth deacon of its history.

Pressing on - the deacon, at heart, enjoyed to lecture - Callum tells Gracious that the Grand Makuu has overseen the transformation of Swaadi. When the War of Subjugation was fought, the Swaad were armed with technological heresies that, "for the heavy price of the user's soul", could rip through the fanatical armies of the Church. As punishment for their crimes, the Church stripped the world of technology, exorcised their academics and scientists through flame and gave the Swaad an "honest, pious life" struggling to work the fields. With their souls humbled, the Swaad were finally ready for the Missionary Galaxia, and (Callum has the deacon grudgingly admit) the fighting forces of the Swaad are some of the most pious and fanatical soldiers of the Imperial Guard.

Mirroring the deacon's compromised soul, Callum does not speak well of those Swaad who have not dedicated their lives to the military or church. He argues that the farmers are sullen and ungrateful, and that their sickly forms betray their stained souls. He goes on at length about his treatise, cataloguing the endless minor grievances that the Swaad have raised, and been justly punished for. It takes a while for Gracious to draw him back to the subject of the Makuu, to more recent history.

"Well, Drill Abbot Gerlinda is largely retired, of course," Callum says through the deacon, grimacing, "Though I benefit from her counsel from time to time. In truth," he leans in conspiratorially, "Less and less. Meanwhile, my duty is to the financial and material well-being of the Grand Makuu. Trying to save the souls of these savages is a thankless task. I leave Preacher Elias Hasek to it. A bright young man, if a little too feisty for his own good. One sometimes worries that he will start a riot, and then we might have a crisis on our hands. Ambition, I think," the possessed deacon nods sagely, "I've seen young preachers like that before." 

*****

Elsewhere, Sergeant Graves is preparing for his final stand.

He knows little of daemonology, but has heard it said that where the veil is thin, daemons clamour in order to reach the mortal realm. And so, he avoids the bedchamber where ritual was produced, and anywhere the fearsome bloodletter stood. That way, the mass of the enemy might rush elsewhere, and he will be able to pick off the stragglers before the hordes come. He sets up in the pantry, a small place with little room for him to be outmanoeuvred, but large enough to avoid impeding the swing of his swords. He hacks apart the shadowy banquet table with his hellblade, marvelling at the way it cuts effortlessly through the wood, and barricades his defensive location. By this time, he can hear the howling of beasts innumerable. It scares him, but the real fear will come when they are falling upon him. But the barricades are tactically arranged, his blades are razor sharp, and he is ready, come what may.

[Has Callum abandoned Graves to his fate?]

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Re: Turn 6 Thread

Post by Stonebreath on Thu Sep 29, 2016 11:44 pm

Callum has no choice but to abandon Graves to his fate.

Graves knows this, on some level, and gives a resigned shrug. All his life, he knew he was a pawn, an object to be used. Now it was his turn to be taken.

What brings him comfort, though, in these last moments, is how he was sacrificed for something Good and Noble. A Just Cause.

Callum feels remorse. Graves was not his friend, but he was an ally, a brother-revolutionary. Were Callum not a shadow in the warp, he might have even shed a tear.

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Re: Turn 6 Thread

Post by The GM on Fri Sep 30, 2016 12:07 pm

[Callum gains 3 Corruption Points.]
 
Graves hoists up his heavy flamer and points in the direction of the only entranceway. He is ready, and accepts his fate with grim determination. But he has no intention of going down without a fight. This battle will be one that should be remembered.
 
Yet that terrible howling grows louder, and when the first signs of the enemy turn the corner, Graves could not expect what he sees. This first wave does not seem to be daemonic at all, but shades, the scraps of devoured souls feasted upon in the cursed bounds of Sadaka. They howl for warmth and flesh, for those sensations of life that they have forever lost, for the souls now devoured and taken from them. It is a terrifying indication of what Graves’ fate must be, and the sergeant freezes up, the heavy flamer tottering to the floor. By the time he has accepted his doom, the soulless mob is upon him, and Graves has no option but to draw his swords and dive in.
 
Funnelled by his barricades, the horde is thinned and cannot bring its numbers to bear. Graves spins and slashes, a fearsome avatar of destruction and death. Where his mighty blades meet the damned, their forms dissolve into mist with sighs of release, and his hellblade roars with the song of battle. He twists and turns, parrying with blows that destroy the ghostly limbs of his foes, ignoring the pain as their ethereal claws scratch at his armour and skin. There is only the slaughter, the glorious last stand of a consummate warrior.
 
The barricades are all but destroyed by this time, and the hordes of thinning. But there, behind them, comes the true enemy: the howling, roiling chaos of Sadaka. Things of teeth and claw, they are a blur of darkness and malice. As Graves exorcises the soulless, his heart skips a beat when he sees the daemons approaching. Yet it is only a beat. He finishes off the soulless as the nether swarm washes into him. His blades spin like extensions of his arms, throwing off the swarm of talons and teeth, but they are too many, too cutting. He staggers as they rip across his chest, his armour plate rent and torn as their thousand teeth weaken and hurt him. With a roar, he fights back, banishing dozens to the abyss, his spirit warlike, his skill legendary. The cosmic power of his blades echo across realities, even as the swarm falls upon him, devouring his flesh and rending apart his carapace. But Sergeant Graves is not done.
 
He roars in defiance of death, his skull catching aflame in a terrifying reflection of his rage. From his mouth are the fires of war, and his hellblade roars with him, his chainsword tearing and destroying his foes. Behind the nether swarm appear further daemons, things made whole by their feasting, furies of the chaos gods given new power by the souls of Sadaka. They twist and coil behind the hordes, waiting for their chance, but Graves pays them no heed. It is too late for fear, too late for regret. There is only war.
 
Graves has banished near half of the daemons before he finally falls, sending scores of beasts and soulless things to the depths of hell and the warp. His body is broken, his vitality whittled down by gnashing teeth and terrible, permanent wounds. Blood pools about him, far more than any mortal can withstand, and, betrayed by his body, he falls to one knee. He leans out with his blades, destroys another foe before the rest fall upon him. He screams, but not to the pain, but in anger, a final warcry in a dimension so far from his own. And with that, the sergeant dies, a death worthy of an eternal soldier.
 
[Graves has burned all his Infamy and has died. In case you are interested, he was at 47 Corruption when he died, 8 Fellowship and 16 Toughness. His hellblade was doing +20 damage for the foes he had killed.]
 
*****

Elsewhere, the deacon is preparing to depart. Callum is anxious to return to the Grand Makuu, and has had the possessed man tell Gracious that they will leave in the morning. They will be accompanied by the two soldiers of the cathedral, along with two of highly trained, Aventine mercenaries of the Villa von Klossner. Does Callum have any business before they depart?

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Re: Turn 6 Thread

Post by The GM on Fri Sep 30, 2016 12:20 pm

[Callum is mutating! Remember that he has Illusion of Normalcy, so you don't have to worry about subtlety. This mutation will affect the deacon's body, but be protected by the Illusion of Normalcy (if the deacon mutates, this will not be hidden by the Illusion). The deacon would have mutated by now, but Callum has restrained it by his will. The deacon will gain a Corruption Point for every day of possession, and is currently at 16. He spawns at 30.

Here are Callum's options:


Intelligent Cyst: A cyst grows within Callum's flesh, possessed of a malcontent intelligence. It takes control where it can, saying generally unpleasant things. Whenever Callum fails an Interaction Test, he fails by additional degrees.
Warp-Eater: Physical sustenance tastes as ashes to Callum, and he need not eat or drink. However, once per month he must take a Challenging (+0) Toughness Test or gain 1d5+1 Corruption as if from a Failing.
Limb Loss: One of Callum's limbs is lost to the warp. Sometimes, he claims he can feel it, dissolving painfully in the immaterium. He loses a random limb.
Magnificent Horns: Magnificent horns sprout from Callum's head. Though his mutations are concealed, there is a sense of power about him. He gains +10 Loyalty with minions (note Callum does not have any minions), and his attacks cannot be parried when he makes a Charge Action.
Mechanoid: Callum's body partially fuses with the machine, becoming an ultimate blasphemy to the Adeptus Mechanicus. He gains the Machine (+1) Trait, which renders him immune to telepathy and gives him +1 AP to all Locations.
Nerveless Ennui: Callum finds he cannot feel, his sense of touch blasted by his corrupting activities. He is at -10 to all Awareness Tests involving Touch, but does not half a Characteristic when he gains too much Fatigue (he can still pass out, however).
Pervasive Miasma: Baleful energies creep from Callum such that a powerful stench of brimstone and corruption follows him wherever he goes. Whenever he fails a Stealth Test, he gains an additional Degree of Failure.
Projectile Attack: Callum is gifted with the ability to summon forth a stream of warpstuff from the Immaterium. He can use a Standard Attack Half Action to attack with the following weapon (if not wearing a helmet): (Range 10m; S/-/-; 1d10+5 E; Pen 3; Spray, Smoke).

What does Callum choose?]

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Re: Turn 6 Thread

Post by Stonebreath on Fri Sep 30, 2016 7:28 pm

[Callum chooses Projectile Attack].

He has no business at the Makuu beyond luring Gracious into his trap and having him killed. Once this is done, Callum intends to cast a Dark Ritual in the Makuu itself to rend the veil and bring about the downfall of the Cathedral.

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Re: Turn 6 Thread

Post by The GM on Fri Sep 30, 2016 11:25 pm

Callum, puppeting the body of Deacon Alfred Brauer, meets Gracious in the morning. It seems that more individuals than simply Gracious are to join them at the Makuu: Leonard Schneider has readied a bag, and they meet a woman outside the mansion, named Laval, who Gracious introduces as a fellow pilgrim. She is a strange figure, with a heavy smoke censer and elaborate, tribal ink patterns across her face, and Callum doesn't quite trust her. But she makes no problems on the walk, and the time passes amiably enough. The soldiers and Aventine mercenaries keep to themselves, protecting the band without making conversation, and Leonard too is quiet and reserved. It is left mostly to Gracious to make conversation, but he is more than able for such a role, and the walk is saved any further awkwardness.

The Makuu la Dhahabu Kiti glowers at the heretics from atop its hill. Its walls are tall and constructed of smooth, sandstone rock, its gargoyles depicting agonised, heretical gods that have been toppled by the Imperial Regime. A heavy organ sound peels out to greet the returning deacon, and soldiers stand guard uneasily on the battlements. The portcullis shifts upwards, as the group is permitted entrance inside.

It is still mid-morning, and the grand nave is mostly empty, displaying hundreds of cold, hard pews. At the head is an altar, made from precious stones, and the coloured windows depict scenes of the despair of the subjugated Swaad. The deacon, controlled by Callum, smiles, and turns to the group. It is time for the great betrayal. Callum has no enmity towards Leonard Schneider, but it is expedient to include him too in the treachery. To split them up would require excuses, and the greater the number of deceits, the greater the chance of failure.

"You are to be welcomed as honoured guests," he tells them, "Perhaps some light refreshments while I review what has happened since I left?" He gestures at the two soldiers, who hasten forwards at his command. "The day room," he tells them, and the soldiers move on, expecting to be followed.

The day room is a fine place to die. It is an internal room, devoid of windows and fitted with only one door. A spacious interior houses various elaborate artworks of the saints, and the walls are painted a calm, pastel colour. Callum waits for his prey to step into the ambush, and for the trap to be sprung. 

[Callum rolled 98 and so needed to use an Infamy Spend to re-roll his Deceive. I assume that's fine.]

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Re: Turn 6 Thread

Post by Stonebreath on Sat Oct 01, 2016 3:13 pm

[The infamy spend is fine, I want to spend as much infamy as possible on this venture.]

Callum relishes what is to come. He relishes the opportunity to avenge Graves.

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Re: Turn 6 Thread

Post by The GM on Sat Oct 01, 2016 4:45 pm

The possessed deacon leaves the doomed to their fate, watching as his soldiers (who, themselves, are none the wiser) take them to the day room. With a smile, Callum's deacon turns with a swish of his purple robes and makes his way to Lieutenant Naasir Mwenye. Intuitively, he knows the way, pillaging the deacon's screaming soul to know his direction. Furtive eyes watch him as he passes, and Callum cannot help but feel a little tension, perhaps even flinching slightly as he hears the sound of a suicidal gunshot, followed by barked commands. Something is wrong with the Grand Makuu, and Callum cannot feel quite safe surrounded by so many unhinged, armed men.

Nonetheless, he arrives at the officers' quarters and raps sharply on the door. The Lieutenant commands the platoon that was left behind to guard the cathedral, while the majority of Colonel Zuberi's company was sent forth to destroy the warband of Margot the Bloodied. Mwenye, the deacon knows, is an ambitious man desperate to advance his station. Such an individual would do anything to prove himself to the Ecclesiarchy.

And yet, when the lieutenant comes to the door, he looks different from what the deacon remembers. He looks haggard, and tired, almost like a wounded animal. Nonetheless, he salutes sharply when he sees the deacon. Callum tells the soldier what to do. To covertly gather his off-duty men and to advance on the day room, to destroy all heretics within. The lieutenant, smiling slightly, hastens to obey, gathering three squads for the treachery. Now, all Callum can do is wait.

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Re: Turn 6 Thread

Post by The GM on Sun Oct 02, 2016 1:09 pm

[Just to remind you: there is a thread awaiting your comments for Generating a Replacement Heretic for Graves.]

Callum takes a set in a comfy chair, waiting for his betrayal to come to fruition. There is quiet as the lieutenant gathers his men, and Callum imagines what his victims must be doing at this moment: sipping tea, making small-talk, painfully unaware of the doom that must befall them. After a few minutes, he hears the deafening barrage of las-rounds, whip-cracks echoed across the stone walls of the Makuu. He smiles to himself, and takes a sip of holy amasec.

[Callum gains 2 Infamy and 8 Corruption Points.]

He is interrupted in his wine-tasting session by a curious message that Callum cannot help but find echoing about in his mind. Call off your men, please! the voice echoes. We can be useful to you, you have every advantage, we can work something out! Let us barter for our lives?

Callum smiles, and leans forward in his chair, gesturing for the courier boy in the corner to dart forwards. He would enjoy the bartering process, but he must act quickly if the soldiers are to stop before his victims are already dead. He hastily scrawls a note and hands it to the boy, telling the soldiers to stand down and hold his guests at gunpoint until he arrives. The boy, a young, sprightly Swaad lad, sprints off in the direction of the gunfire. Callum's deacon stands to make his way over there, so he can personally conduct the negotiations.

But something seems to have gone wrong. The soldiers seem to be fleeing something awful, and, a little irritated, Callum makes his way to the nave. His victims may have fled also, and he quickly gathers men to guard the main exit to the Grand Makuu. "And lo, the Emperor did appear to the Faithful!" he shouts to the fleeing soldiers, rallying them and delighting in the hypocrisy, "To give them Courage in the face of Chaos!"

The nave locked down, Callum waits for his guests to come this way. He calls out to them, promising them a fair hearing, but they do not seem inclined to believe him. He quickly organises for search parties to track the enemy down, but they turn up little. One patrol finds a rope, long enough to reach most of the way down the wall, affixed to a column and strewn out of a window. Callum surveys it, musing on what might have happened when Preacher Elias Hasek comes running towards him. The young man looks like he hasn't slept since Callum last saw him weeks ago, his eyes bloodshot and darting.

"I heard the gunfire and came as quickly as I could," he claims, but Callum can tell he is lying. This man was too afraid - Callum can read it on his face. It is strange - the preacher seems nervous, and even distrustful towards the deacon and the soldiers about him. "Are we under attack, deacon?"

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Re: Turn 6 Thread

Post by The GM on Sun Oct 02, 2016 11:09 pm

A little later, once the deacon has spoken with Elias Hasek, Callum is brought various reports on what is happening in his cathedral. A squad, led by Sergeant Macha, has been annihilated on the road by mercenaries loyal to the Villa von Klossner. A terrifying warrior led them, and spared a heavily injured Sergeant Macha, allowing her to return with the message that the Swaad are beginning to rise up against the cathedral. It suggests many threats: from the villages and the Klossner mansion, and many of the sergeants want to mount an immediate attack. Does the deacon restrain or encourage them? What strategy does Callum suggest?

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Mwenye has been thrown in the dungeons under the Makuu, awaiting the deacon's judgement. He is charged with cowardice, incompetence and bewitchment, and his underlings, paranoid and afraid, are calling for his death. Ultimately, however, the decision rests with the deacon - assuming the soldiers' loyalty...

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Re: Turn 6 Thread

Post by Stonebreath on Mon Oct 03, 2016 10:25 pm

Callum decides to call for the Lt.'s death, but says he will carry out the sentence personally "as is only proper."

What Callum intends to do is to sacrifice the Lt. to Chaos to rend the veil, flooding the cathedral with warp entities. Before he does this, he will attempt to acquire a young and physically fit bodyguard from the Cathedral's Troop compliment.

Then, once the Rending of the Veil is achieved, he intends to possess this bodyguard and leave.

He encourages the aggressive Sgts to lead attacks against all threats. "We must go on the offensive to purge this blight," says his Deacon, in typical, cookie-cutter dogmatist fashion.

He will attempt to convince the bodyguard in question to trust him by convincing him that the ritual he is undergoing is a part of the Imperial Creed.


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Re: Turn 6 Thread

Post by The GM on Tue Oct 04, 2016 1:47 am

Callum’s deacon sends forth half the forces of the Grand Makuu, to destroy the enemy one by one. His sergeants advise him that they will go to Imani first, then Kifodini, before settling on the Villa von Klossner. They will pick off the weaker targets, before tackling the main beast. Callum leaves them to it, barely bothering to caution them to subdue, rather than annihilate. Civilian, soldier… they are all lackeys of the Imperium, and Callum has long since stopped caring about such lives.
 
He makes his way down to the dungeons, scheme afoot. He has brought a strong, athletic man as his bodyguard. The man carries a flamer, all the better for ritualistic sacrifice, and is laughably ignorant of what is yet to occur. Callum prepares the ritual to call upon the beasts of the warp, to unleash the denizens of hell upon the cathedral. He desecrates the deacon’s holy tomes, to represent the desecration of the Grand Makuu. The sacrifices are dragged out, pathetic, half-starved wretches that can serve no purpose other than in death. So prepared, Callum begins, delighting in the screams of the deacon’s soul.
 
*****
 
Behind the iron wrought gates of the dungeons, the deacon of the Grand Makuu has set out his weighty Imperial Tomes. The prisoners of the cathedral have been brought out in chains, Lieutenant Mwenye foremost among them, and a nervous-looking soldier stands by the deacon's side, flamer in hand. The deacon chants in a tongue not known to many, a daemontongue that stings at the tongue from which it is uttered. Two further guards wait outside the gates, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
 
A woman steps out, seemingly frightened, calling out to the guards in a hushed but frantic tone. "What are you doing!? Can't you hear the daemontongue? They're doing magic in there!"
 
The guards falter for a moment, confused and distracted as an armoured figure begins dashing around the corridor, power sword in hand and the eyes of a killer. She sweeps at one of the soldiers, but he ducks just in time and there is are sparks as the sword clashes against the gate. The soldier responds by smashing the butt of his gun into his attacker, but it bangs off her carapace with little impact. The other soldier, reacting swiftly despite her confusion, opens fire with her lasgun, but in her panic strikes her friend, injuring him badly.
 
The deacon continues to murmur in daemontonuge, but at the end of a sentence turns to the commotion. "Do not listen to her lies," he commands, with an iron will. "She is a plant, installed by local forces to destabilize the Imperial Creed's hold on this place. Seize her!" The soldier next to him shifts his flamer nervously, waiting for the instruction to shoot on his own fellows.
 
As the scrum develops, another man joins the fray, a well-dressed, if somewhat haphazard individual wielding a beautiful sword. He engages with the other guard, keeping him occupied as the first woman stands in the middle of the corridor, apparently in thought.
 
The killer with the power sword hisses as her sword scrapes across the gates, causing sparks but slowing her blade and missing her target. Her enemy slips past her with acrobatic grace, shooting at point blank range, but the killer is too fast, diving to the side.
 
"Set her ablaze!" the deacon roars, with powerful authority. "The Holy Cleansing cannot be interrupted!" He frowns as one of the soldiers, exposing his back to the well-dressed man, opens fire on the deacon, but the shots go wide as he continues to chant.
 
Meanwhile, the lieutenant has risen to his feet, a fire in his eyes. But when he sees the point of a flamer, he staggers backwards, defiant, but still afraid.
 
"Friends of the Makuu," the swordsman calls out, with impassioned words. "I have seen one of your number - the loyal organist of the Deacon - make dread pacts with the forces of evil. The very prayers inscribed in the words have turned against you. Feel the air? Chaos is come to this place... this is no longer a place of the Emperor's Light!"
 
The air almost shimmers as the two personalities clash, the veil responding in anticipation of the serpent tongues duelling for power. The soldiers are confused and distracted, though they are still loyal to their deacon.
 
"The Deacon is not himself!" the woman adds, "Has he not been acting oddly? Surely your souls can feel that this is not right?"
 
Yet the deacon's power is unquestionable, his robes of office bolstered with the personality of a man who must be obeyed. And all soldiers do obey him, but one. Lieutenant Mwenye, broken, beaten and intimidated, is emboldened by the words he hears. He runs at the man with a flamer with a shriek of desperation, restricted by his chains, but doing an able job at distracting.
 
Meanwhile, the killer switches strategy, trying to smash the hilt of her weapon into her enemy's face, but he proves annoyingly quick. He wriggles out of her reach again, firing at semi-automatic, but his target ably jumps out of the way of the shots. The other soldier distractedly attempts to throw the butt of her weapon into the swordsman's face, but he deftly parries with a grimace of concentration.
 
"You speak of Chaos and Dark Pacts!" the deacon continues, whilst muttering dark chants between sentences. "The wolves of dissent are at our doorstep and you seek to divide us!? You seek to undermine Holy Authority!? Loyal sisters and brothers, do not give in to these divisive words! Stand all in service to Him on Terra and bring them to Justice!" Beside him, the man holding the flamer smacks it into the lieutenant's face, knocking him down and stunning him as his nose breaks.
 
Meanwhile, the swordsman struggles past his opponent, ducking beneath a clumsy swing, and tries to throw something through the bars. It lands on the man with the flamer, hissing as foul fumes burn through his back. He screams as it burns through his armour and peels back the skin. Meanwhile, the lieutenant catches some to his bare chest, groaning in agony as a large patch of skin rips free. Blood pours from the terrible wound.
 
The first woman has not moved from her position in the corridor, muttering something under her breath as she channels great power. The lasguns of the soldiers crackle and burn out to the power of the warp, the breath of all choked out and leaving everyone wheezing.
 
The armoured figure hisses in annoyance as she finally smashes her hilt into the forehead of her enemy, stunning him and knocking him back. He groans, sliding against the wall, as the other soldier swings clumsily at the swordsman. And then, quite the unexpected occurs.
 
"Blacker than black," the deacon chants, switching to Low Gothic,
"Darker than Dark,
Four great hearts burn in the recesses of hell,
and by their will horrors shall manifest this day,
let the shackles be broken and those in bondage be set free."
 
The soldier with the flamer staggers forwards, consumed by pain but still hearing the words. He looks at the scene with terror and hatred, steps back, and covers all in flame, figuring the Emperor can sort sinner from saint. But he is confused, and the flames from his weapon spread in too high a sweep. Everyone but one of the soldiers dives out of the way, who, caught alight, starts screaming in agony.
 
The swordsman reaches for another vial of acid, but this time pours it on the door looks, burning it open with a hiss as he is ignored by the burning soldier beside him. Meanwhile, the woman remains focused, channelling terrible energies of the warp.
 
The killer, bored with her stunned prey, dives through the open door and makes for the deacon. She drives her sword through his shoulder, sending him staggering back, shrieking in pain, but very much alive. The burning soldier falls to the ground, the acrid smell of molten flesh, as the deacon falls entirely silent, at a crucial moment of ritual. But he has said many of the words, and the warp cannot be held back by a final hesitation. Whether or not he can control the powers, meanwhile, is another matter...
 
He staggers back, mute, but his arms reach up as the warp answers his unholy call. The cackling of daemons fills the air, finding weakness through the holy wardings of the Grand Makuu. Four embodiments of the fury of the gods come forth, cackling harpies of tooth and claw. With a smile, the deacon simply points at his enemies, and the daemons run forth. The earth protests at the intrusion, knocking the two guards, the swordsman and the killer down.
 
The soldier with the flamer screams in hatred and fear, nonetheless remaining courageous in face of damnation. He angles his flamer more accurately, burning the deacon as the killer dodges out of the way. He casts a wide spread of flame, catching the swordsman and setting him alight, burning two of the daemons at lighting them up in a whoosh of holy fire.
 
The swordsman screams, burning on the floor as he desperately tries to put himself out. The daemons, snarling, fall upon the group, two flying forth to the wych. She desperately dodges their swings of claw and fang, trying to reach her friend, but the swordsman is set upon by another daemon. It picks it up in his claws, tearing into his flesh with abandon, and tossing his apparently lifeless body against the wall. Another swipes at the killer, but she ducks under the blow.
 
The wych's eyes widen as she sees her friend fall. Calling upon the powers of the warp, she lets out a terrible psychic scream. It is directed at one individual - the source of her pain - but the vestiges of the sound echo throughout reality. The deacon's head explodes, in an unspeakably appalling manner, shattering the skull and sending gore flying in all directions. His headless body staggers for a few moments, before hitting the ground. In response to the shattering of the mind and veil, the warp is exposed twicefold to those still alive to witness it.
 
The killer blinks in surprise, before turning and burying her blade into her daemonic foe. It is aflame, and when her sword drives into its chest, it explodes into hellfire, banished back to the warp. She ducks underneath the man with a flamer, irked by his constant stream, but turns. Her charge is still in terrible danger. The wych ducks, barely dodging the last swipe, as one of her attackers reels from psychic attack. The final daemon, done with the swordsman, goes for the killer. She dispatches it with a single swipe of her power sword.
 
The killer advances, striking another, already injured beast and sending it back to hell. The other swipes at the wych, but she jumps back with determination. After a brief exchange of blade, claw and psychic will, the daemon is finally felled down by a mighty strike of the killer, the warrior channelling her zealous hatred through the blow. It staggers back, before the wych reaches out, and destroys what is left.
 
*****
 
It is the oddest sensation, death. Especially when one dies in a body other than their own.
 
Callum remembers the pain. The intense migraine, like his skull was splitting from inside. In retrospect, perhaps it was. He was so close, but had not prepared for a wych. He wrought such chaos, but, like the Icarus of ancient heresies, flew too close to the sun.

All turns to black…
 
And then, as they say, there was light.
 
Callum gasps in shock as his soul returns to his original body. It is like returning to an old, childhood home, nostalgia mixed with disgust at those subtle ways in which one’s memories are proved false. His flesh is cold, like a corpse, and his eyes rheumy. Shadows collect about the Villa von Klossner, and with a chill of fear, Callum realises he has returned to the nether dimension between reality and the warp. He is lying in the villa’s main bedchambers, the remains of a great ritual being reclaimed by the ethereal mist. Callum smiles.
 
He stands, and makes his way down the stairs. It is still scarred from where the bloodletter swung its mighty blade: where Sergeant Graves fought the beast, and vanquished it in glorious combat. It was a pleasure to watch, though somewhat scary at the time. Callum grins as his fingers run down the deep, burned grooves in the wood.
 
When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, he cannot help but be drawn to the tearoom, where Lady Klossner was brought and the deacon became his to dominate. Unlike the rest of the villa, the place is bathed in golden light, illuminated by the depths of Callum’s corruption. Callum cannot help but laugh, remembering that feeling of infinite victory that spread divinely across his soul. It was one of his greatest triumphs, and his dark deeds will be spoken of for thousands of years.
 
He glances up the hallway towards the pantry, his eyes narrowing as he sees a single figure, splayed on the ground and surrounded by the shattered pieces of tables and chairs. It is Sergeant Graves, his blades still clutched in gauntleted fists. The man is wreathed in mist, his skin and armour turned grey and colourless, the blood having long since dried. Callum bends down beside him.
 
“We did great things,” he tells the sergeant, his one last companion. He turns his head slightly as he hears the scuttling of monsters, creeping from the shadows towards him. Accepting his fate, Callum smiles and ignores them. He stares down at the corpse of Sergeant Graves, and waits for his final doom.

[Callum has died. Thank you for playing! You certainly caused a lot of chaos.]

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Re: Turn 6 Thread

Post by Stonebreath on Tue Oct 04, 2016 2:10 pm

[No, *you* have a lump in your throat. Thanks for running, Stephen, that was truly excellent.]

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Re: Turn 6 Thread

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