Saturday, 1 May 2021

Conflict on Thracium VII (Narrative 40k games day 1)

 Our series of club 40k games, with a loose narrative around them kicked off last weekend. This is how the Sisters got on in their two games....

Landfall on Tharacium VII

Repentia Sister Superior Emelda walked at the fore of her penitent sisters as she entered the ruined apse of the once great cathedral. The hymnals sung by the Repentia echoed from the silent stones as they lay scattered around them, the songs enough to drown out the muttering engines of their eviscerators.

Beside Emelda and her charges, sisters of the Sacred Rose walked. Their very presence shone through the gloom that surrounded them. The bright white of their armour matched in it's brilliance only by the strength of their faith in the God Emperor. 

A group of citizens were walking towards the sisters, their shuffling gait reminded Emelda of a hospitallier ward she had once visited, home to those who bore terrible wounds, who had no hope of restitution or a life beyond their suffering.

Weapons appeared in the hands of the citizens, a banner was held aloft, bearing blasphemous promises of support from a god other than the holy God Emperor. All of this was clear to Emelda through her helm's lenses, and was clear to the sisters nearby.

Holy bolters sang their song of punishment, and the heretics fell.

Seraphim swooped to the earth, their retribution unstinting on the unfaithful, through flame, bolter and plasma they cut through more mutated heretics, each weapon fired accompanied by the hymns of hatred and vengeance, disgust at the weakness of those who had fallen from the Emperor's light.

As ever, the Repentia were charging even before I was able to strike them with the neural whip, it was expected of them, and they expected the whip to strike them none the less. A sentinel, commandeered from some militarum depot spat a red lascannon beam at the white armoured sisters. Sister Verity fell, her armour not proof against such a weapon.

The sentinel took only one further stride forward, and then the Repentia were upon it. The song of their eviscerators now joined the songs of their hymnals, the tortured metal, the screaming voices merely added to the devotion within the song, it was these moments that the Repentia truly were able to begin to atone for their sins.....

Death of the Eternally Faithful

Interrogator Chaplain Dael materialised within the Ecclesiarchy warship, the powerful teleport technology aboard the Sword of Caliban more than capable of delivering him, and his Deathwing cohort aboard.

Klaxons sounded, a call to arms, a call to repel boarders. Clearly the Deathwing had materialised aboard closer to their objectives than he had. No matter, there was nothing aboard the Eternally Faithful that could stand against a cohort of Deathwing terminators appearing in their midst, and his objective was not far.

Movement ahead was met with a stream of fire from his storm bolter, the heavy rounds punching through the unarmoured serfs, pilgrims and penitents who fled from his advance. Dael had fought the philosophical debates with other chaplains about the righteousness of killing such as this, killing those who believed they served the Emperor as he did. Those debates felt long ago, and so much less relevant now.

Dael emerged in a large open area, designed perhaps to welcome shuttle craft. But it's purpose had been given over to that of storing the single stasis chamber at it's centre. Dael was not the first of his cohort to arrive, two terminator squads were present, weapon discharges marked the position of Barisan's squad, identifiers marked the position of Antochlus. His sensors quickly identified the enemy within the room as Sororitas.

Before he could react, the life signs of Dael's squad blinked out, the sounds of chainblades revving and tearing through ceramite echoed around the chamber as they did. 

It was now that he saw Antochlus. Terminator armour was able to move at incredible speed, far surpassing expectations of how quickly the layer upon layer of plating should move. His moves to combine with Antochlus was stalled by a stream of flame and bolter fire from above, enemy jump pack troopers dropping from the catwalk above. His armour was proof against such attacks, while it threw his storm bolter from his hand and dented, scraped and battered his armour plates, he remained whole. 

His crozius crackled with energy as he swung it at the nearest enemy. He connected with a thunderclap, and the woman in white armour was thrown across the room, followed by another. Another fusillade from the sisters rained down on him from their pistols, more flame licked at his armour, more bolts sought passage into his flesh.

He swung again, but they had become wise, the three remaining fired their jump packs again, returning to the relative safety of the catwalks above. 

As he looked up at the sisters above him, bolter fire crashed into his armour from the gunsmoke haze around him. A meltagun blast connected with his right pauldron, annihilating it entirely. Purple plasma fire burst through, lancing through the haze to clear a path to white armoured soldiers, marching in lock step, weapons raised and spitting fire.

Dael was only now aware that Antochus' squad markers had blinked to black too.

Crozius raised, he bellowed at the warriors advancing on him, his suit's amplifiers more than capable of being heard above the rattle of bolter fire.

I am the agent of the Emperor's Will.

I am crafted by the Emperor himself and you are interfering with matters you do not understand.

Move aside. This ..... thing you have trapped aboard your vessel.... is not yours to keep, nor yours to interrogate.

The bolter fire continued, a second blast from the meltagun struck Dael straight in the torso, reducing most of his internal anatomy to gas in an instant. The damage was too much even for his physiology to cope with. 

Instead of the next firey statement, a gasp escaped his lips, the last vestiges of his lungs attempting to source what little air they could get, as he dropped to his knees.

Standing over him was a white armoured sister, her head framed by a steel grey halo and holding a plasma pistol, trigger held down to amplify the charge. Her voice was calm, but edged with disdain.

You have boarded our vessel, slain those devoted to the service of the Emperor's will.

I pronounce you Heretic.

And your punishment shall be death.

The pistol fired, and Dael ceased to be.

And as both hearts stopped, the secondary explosives which had been placed by the other terminator squads that had teleported aboard the Eternally Faithful triggered. 

All those on the surface saw the bright flash streak across the sky as the Eternally Faithful entered the atmosphere, breaking up as it fell gracelessly through the atmosphere.


None of the mortals answered the riddles I had set them. Some came close, and those few who did had to be distracted, and yet some had to have their threads cut. It wasn't the time for them to find out the answer, not yet.

So said my master, and so it was.

The starship streaking to earth, devestating the land as it died was too as my master willed it, for what was aboard that vessel needed to be on Thracium VII, and the explosions that scoured the earth were needed to uncover what lay underneath.

And so as my master willed it, so it was done.

And so, I wait for my master to direct me to wear the face of another. Perhaps one of the Eldar? I do so enjoy the arrogance of being one of them. Perhaps a Space Marine? So strong, so blind to the world around them as they . Perhaps one of the Sororitas? To feel such righteous anger in service of such hypocrisy is one of the true pleasures in existence. Or perhaps, just perhaps, I shall wear the face of one of the Grandfather's children. To wear the bloated skin and occupy the closed mind of one of his own disciples would be a great joy....

But that will only come when my master wills it, when the time is right.

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