ZOMBIE FORUMS

OOC:\ Seeing as we haven't had one of these for a while, I thought I'd start a new one /OOC

Planet: Ichor IV

Setting: Inside a Hive city

The hive streched 3 kilometres into the sky, and about the same below the ground. The upper levels are home to the noble familys that "run" the hive. The middle levels are the gang lands where fiece fighting is often found. The lower levels, or underhive, are home to the most deperate and weak creatures in the hive, and has the most mutants in the whole hive. All kinds of creatures and mutants are found throuhout the hive. The tech level of the hive varys widely from basic in the lower levels to highly advanced in some of the upper levels, as well as there being archo-tech, misterious machines capable of doing anything from pretty lights to powerful weapons.

Law enforcement: This is taken care of by the adeptus arbites, who are brutal in there jobs.

Current status: The hive has recently ended a large scale hive war, and there is an uneasy peace.

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\A warp portal opens in one of the darker areas of the hive, a tall figure emerges clad in power armour with several areas showing the bionics that have replaced the warriors limbs. He looks around, the dark eyes of his helmet radiate dark energys, as do all the other joins in his armour.

Yes, this is the perfect place to start my campagin. Chaos rules here and I shall capture many slaves, and those who oppose me shall die.

\A readys his combi bolter-melta in his right arm, the other being a bionic that is uncapable of operating the gun, and rakes back the slide preparing it for his first victim.

OOC\ This should be free-for-all, but you can form teams if you like /OOC

Mar hauls himself up the badly rusted ladder, and steadies himself on the platform, taking a chance to catch his breath. Squinting, Mar glares into the gloom of the honecombed underhive passage he is exploring, trying to pick out the scurrying of the giant Hive Rat he is hunting down out of the dripping and other sounds of decay that fill the pungent air.

As he quietly crawls ahead, Mar picks up a disturbance,an unusual noise,something he'd never even heard of before...something in the air causes all of Mar's senses to pick up in alarm and instinctual panic, and a small corner of his brain screams at him to get moving, GO!

Mar freezes for an excruciatingly long 10 seconds as his survival instinct and his innate curiosity war within him, and then, plucking up the bravado that serves as courage, the youth stealthily creeps forward, edging throught the shadows, until..

..he looks down on a massive armoured figure, a giant of a man, the monsterous individual radiating something that jangles every nerve in the young boy's body.

Finally, instinct gets the better of him, and the youth uses his phase ability to plummet throught a nearby wall, and silently bolt along the corridoor, heading back to his nearby settlement, intent on warning his clan of the approaching evil.

OOC: Mar may be interrupted on his plummet homeward, and i'm guessing it's quite likely Antenor's character sensed Mar's use of his ability...

below is a description of my character.


Name: Mar Lochen

Age: 17

Weapons: laspistol, Heavy Knife.

skills: Mar is a basic young human in every respect bar one: his 'instability' power, that lets him pass through solid matter. Currently, he can only perform this three times a day, each time lasting up to about five minutes. this ability comes in very handy for exploring the settlement on which he has grown up, where is daily duties include hunting the giant hive rats and other animals, and searching for archeotech, his ability making getting past walls a breeze.

Bio: Mar is very untrusting of strangers, and has an overall standoffish demeanour, however, with family and close friends, of which he has very few, he is a lot friendlier.

In combat Mar is as ruthless as he is young, but he is by no means powerful or skilled enough to take on fully kitted out marines or inquisitors...Legendary figures whom he regards with fearful awe, and intends to stay well clear of.

His gang, and house of orlock, have recently been having a bitter war with the other clans of the hive, and they have just entered an uneasy peace....

/OOC

*snippity snip*

Fare thee well, short story o' mine! Watch for it, on a SciFi fiction server near you!

*shoots alter-ego in head*

OOC: Uh, not to be rude or anything, but are you informed on Warhammer 40K background, Dominic? (At least, as I understood it, this thread tries to stay true to the 40K fluff, sorry if it's not intended to.) I am far from any expert on 40K fluff, but I do know the basics. The Imperium of mankind is big. Very big. On the "millions of solar systems" scale. The Imperial fleet won't think twice about eradicating all life on a planet with virus bombardment if it is necessary. They don't usually like to do this, as it makes the planet useless to the Imperium for many years afterwards as well. Terra is not divided into countries and such, the main part would be the Imperial palace. Terra is basically one big administration center for the rest of the Imperium, there's not room for anything else.Let's just say the only thing that has been close to taking Terra in a loooong time is Chaos during the Horus Heresy (curse the demon-loving filth). Hive cities are human cities, their population numbering in the billions, where the rich families and cartels live a luxurious life in the highest spires, and the conditions get worse and worse the farther down you get. Life is very, very cheap.

Space Marines have been around for a long time, about 10000 years or so. (I don't really know when the first founding was and such.) Sorry to say, but they're not likely to have girlfriends or friends. The exact way the subjects are chosen depends a bit on the chapter, but I think it usually involves being able to best and kill the other children in a test. Then they are implanted with the geneseed oif their chapter, and go through a long process of being physically changed (getting several lungs and hearts etc.), and basically bred on steroids, going through extremely rigorous training. In the end, those that survive are fanatically loyal, living only to fight for the Emperor. Their days are spent training, fighting and praying to the Emperor.

Oh, and believe me, the Space Marines have definitely not heard of any Geneva convention either. Torture and execution? For the Emperor!

Hmm, got a bit carried away there, didn't I? Anyway, hope I haven't misunderstood or got anything wrong. Sorry for any inconvenience. I'll be looking into making a character myself, with what limited knowledge I have of the hive cities and 40K fluff. /OOC

Edit: By the way, anyone know a place to find the fluff bible? I might as well download that thing, even if I'll probably never get around to read it. And, as Eldar would be pretty much out of the question in a hive city, I think my character will be a Comissar. You've got to love the Commisars. How can you not love a character that will kill the officer if the unit falls back? :)

Edit the second: I found the flufff bible. Heh, that thing is 202 text size 10 Word pages.

Oh, just ignore everything I said then.

*sob* And it was such a good story too!!

I don't see why an Eldar couldn't be in a hive city, there where some eldar on Ichar IV when the nids attacked so one could have just stayed behind, most likely a ranger would have done this though if memory serves you could have a farseer in some games of necromunda (Note: I've never played necromunda or seen the rulebook, but you can get a farseer + bodyguard in the necromunda section of the online store).

OOC: / I don't have a lot of time right now, soon off to an Xbox/PS2 all night thing, but I'll just give a very short presentation. Although Eldar ranger or farseer was very tempting (it would be fun to refer to everyone else as Mon-Keigh, and always being able to say: I knew that would happen, but I let it happen because it was necessary for things to evolve towards the right ends), I'll go with a Commissar. Leading a 4 man patrol of guardsmen, if that's ok. If not, I'll lose them (literally...)
Anyway:

Name: Immanio (I have no imagination, and I happen to feel attached to the name.)
Imperial Commissar, assigned to the Nivlheimian 2nd infantry regiment

Like most other commissars, Immanio was brought up at one of the Schola Progenium, the orphanages run by the Adeptus Ministorum. After being selected to be a Commissar cadet and serving in a Commissar training squad, he was judged ready to take on the responsibilities of a Commissar. His first assignment was to the Nivlheimian 2nd infantry regiment, deployed on Ichor IV to aid the forces of the governor during an all-out hive war. During the fighting, he earned the respect of the Nivlheimians (useful to avoid being fragged by them). Now that there is a fragile truce, he leads patrols in the lower levels of the hive, to keep his men alert and search out those who would plot against the Imperium.

Armed with: Laspistol and chainsword.
Shielded by flak armour, but mainly by his faith in the Emperor.
Accompanied by 4 Nivlheimian guardsmen (think Valhallan looks), 3 carrying lasguns and one carrying a flamer. /OOC

Name: Suas "Play" Mitumant.

Occupation: A classical Conductor

History: He was stuck in another hive during the last war and considered by some to have been a spy, charges that landed him in confinment until the war ended. His specialty is several of the 'forgotten' masters, such as Vivaldi, Verdi and Justin Timberlake(the fifth). Trained from birth in the musical arts he has no fighting abilities and hates violence. During his time in Jail he was composing a new work which he plans on playing at an upcomming wedding on one of the higher levels.

Apperance: Tall with black hair and a beard Play is a pale, skinny man due to his lack of food and sunlight in the last few months. Wearing a black trenchcoat he has a slight limp on his left leg from an injury suffered during his prision stay.
He is acommpanied by a large Servitor named 'Tunes' carrying his luagage in a single suitcase. Tunes was a gift from one of the rulers of the last hive as an apology for locking Play up on Spying charges.

Character Profile

Name: Warsmith Ironfist

Age: Rumored to be well over 10,000 years

Race: Iron Warrior Chaos Space Marine

Equipment: Combi Bolter-melta, Bionics, servo-arm, power armour, melta bombs

Known Psychic Powers: Doombolt, Vortex of Chaos, teleportation

Probability of other powers: Almost certain

Description:
Warsmith Ironfist is unusual in terms of his tatics compared with other Iron Warrior Warsmith's. He is much more likely to take part in any battle whereas other Warsmiths prefer to wait until their presence on the battlefield will certainly enable them to achive victory. Ironfist will frequently be the infiltrate a targeted planet and create an uprising before his great company arrives, thus creating havoc and confusion in his opponent. It has been rumored that he is searching for artifacts that can increase his power, but as most of the planets population are slaughtered and the planet bombarded heavy, this is very difficult to confirm, though over the past millennia it has been noted that his use of psyhic powers has increased for being none at all to having a powerful control over the psychic powers that he use's. Currently several members of the Inqusition are trying to hunt him down.

Threat Assesment: Extremly dangerous

Immanio hated these patrols in the lower parts of the hive. These dark, wet passageways crisscrossing through the enormous structure were not welcoming by any stretch, and filled with perfect ambush spots. Still, being here, accompanying the patrols in the most remote part of their patrol zone earned him the respect of the men. "A commissar tends to act in one of two ways", an old Guard officer had told him a few months earlier, when they had met coincidentally as Immanio was on his way to this, his first assignment as a commissar. "Some sit in the bunkers at HQ and do nothing but preach and punish. Others lead the charge themselves, being where the fighting is. The first tends to be much more prone to "accidents", "friendly fire" or outright "disappearances". And the second tends to keep the faith in the Imperium stronger than any punishment can." Now he was here, in the bowels of a giant hive on one of the most important hive worlds of the Imperium, keeping the peace between gangs, the houses and cartels of the upper hive, the Imperial government, and alliances between any of these.

As they reached a large, open area it was obvious there had been fighting. Nothing big, about 5 corpses lying around, most probably two gangs settling an old grudge. From the look a few days old. They had been stripped of everything, including gang colours, and he wasn't about to check for tattoos or other identifying marks on 2-day old corpses. Patrol duty had quickly taught him that small skirmishes like these were no use investigating.

He turned to the four guardsmen accompanying him. Despite the relatively high temperature, they wore the heavy winter coats common among the Nivlheimian troops, although they had left their fur hats behind. Three of them were armed with standard issue lasguns, while the last one, Wilhelm, was carrying a flamer. He was glad he had instructed the supply sergeant to provide one for the patrol. It had shown its usefulness in flushing out cornered underhive scum several times. "We report this when we return. Move on." The four men, expecting nothing else, continued their wary progress, crossing the plaza to a tunnel on the other side.

About half an hour had passed since they passed the bodies, and they were nearing the outer limit of their patrol zone. Suddenly Jakob, the older of the guardsmen, stopped, motioning for the others to do likewise. Immanio looked quizzically at him, and Jakob showed him the scanner he was carrying. That was another thing Immanio was glad he had ensured the supply sergeants willingness to get. Right now, it showed something moving fast, somewhere ahead and to the right. Motioning to Karl and Stefan, the two remaining guardsmen, to guard their rear, he made his way slowly and quietly forward. The first rule of Underhive patrols was "If you don't know what it is, it's probably not friendly."

Suddenly, the flashing dot on the scanner changed direction, and a few moments later, a young man came running into the tunnel ahead of them. Immanio thought he made out some kind of green gang colours, but not the shade. In any way, green would mean either Gurthok, Wathim, Lokar or Draglor. The young man was obviously in a hurry, and from the looks he was running away from something.

OOC/ I think I'll be a Tau, for the tech factor. A Space Marine would be fun, as it's my army and I can just snag one of the characters from my ongoing story(Foeman's Dirge for those of you who wander into the BL forums) but a Tau warrior will be fun to.

Newscaster: The skies over Ichor IV were lit up this afternoon when the transport of a Tau emmisary suffered a catastrophic engine failure and exploded. The ship was carrying an ambassador who was scheduled to meet with Governor Verras tomorrow. Spaceport authorities are investigating the accident.

Shas 'Ui Telkure kicked at the escape pod's door, wich was jammed shut by the impact. He had been assigned to bodyguard Water Caste O'lorin, and had put him in the other pod after the guela's missile tore the engines off of their ship. Just after they ejected, a second missile destroyed it.
After three kicks he managed to blow the door outward. Dust and bits of rockcrete poured in on him. Coughing, he tossed his Pathfinder armor and helmet out and retrieved his Pulse Carbine. He climbed out and found himself in a valley between buildings. The stench of human and industrial waste was heavy in the air. He gagged on it for a moment, then pulled on his helmet. The tasteless, dead, filtered air seemed so much better. How could the guela stand living in a place like this?
He activated the tracker in his helmet, looking to find the others. If he couldn't do that, he would be in deep trouble. The tracker found a signal as he finished buckling on his armor. They had landed more than a kilometer away. Pausing only to retrieve a bandolier of pulse rounds and grenades, he started down the nearest corridor.

The air pulsed with an unnatural rythym, as if it were alive. It would press down as if it were shoving against the worshippers, then relax, seeming thin and not there at all. This cycle repeated in tune with the mystic syllables they chanted in the name of Tzeentch.

Yarloch led this chant. Hundreds of Tzeentch worshippers followed, most of them there purely because they were bullied into it. Yet, the effect was the same. Their chanting was pulling open a small rift, located in the center of the circle they formed around a gaping pit. Yarloch was on a raised platform, looking down inside. This rift crackled with chaotic energies, always changing color, shapes seen moving within.

"Arthleetlq'mmtlq'... Arthleetlq'mmtlq'... Arthleetlq'mmtlq'!!!"

The crowd murmured this convulted mass of syllables, and the crackling energies roared. Yarloch pointed at one, a young woman, not more than twenty. Two robed figures dragged her kicking and screaming up to him. Her child began crying openly, until she was brought up as well, by yet another of the guards.

"Flameweaver demands a sacrifice. YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN! For his insolence... she will be used as well."

Yarloch pointed at the young girl with this. The mother broke out into tears, sobbing, promising that she would do anything for him. At this, the Chaos demagogue laughed, and picked up the small girl of not more than ten. She writhed in his hands, as he held her over the pedestal edge, above the swirling rift now at least ten feet wide inside of the pit.

"LET FLAMEWEAVER CONSUME YOU!"

The child was dropped at this. Yet... she did not fall... as her mother screams, the rift itself appears to move, a tendril grasping onto the young girl and pulling her down slowly. The mother is in hysterics, as she is prepared. The guards remove the mother's clothes, and daub her flesh with unguents in specific runed patterns. By the time the girl has been consumed, her shrieking mother has been covered in runes across every part of her body. She is being held by four huge guards, the strongest men from the cult. Each holds a limb, her body spread out, and on the pedestal, with Yarloch standing behind her.

"You will serve my master well. He has been so insistent upon a sacrifice."

The woman is chained around the legs, and lowered down to the pit. The tendrils course over her, rubbing against her flesh, becoming smaller and finger-like. They quickly undo the chain, and pull her down into the rift. The four guards cover the pit with a large grate, allowing nothing but light and noise through. All that can be heard are her shrieks, a horrible miasma of pain and sadness. Yarloch finishes the chant, leading the crowd that had not stopped throughout the entire ordeal. He finishes quickly, retreating to his private quarters, there, he orders his guards away. He hears the voice, then.

YOU HAVE DONE WELL, YARLOCH.
I AM PLEASED WITH YOUR SERVICE.
LEAD THE PEOPLE OF ICHOR IV IN THE NAME OF TZEENTCH.
I WILL GIVE YOU POWER. DO NOT WASTE IT.

With this, Yarloch laughed manically, as he planned his next move...

OOC: i'lm a little fuzzy on what commisars are, but i'm guessing that they're police of some sort, with some religious overtones (what doesn't have religious over or undertones in 40K?) /OOC

When he spots the commisar and his men, Mar skids to a halt, and stands wearily, looking like a small, skittish animal, ready to bolt at the first sign of attack.

The commisar calls out to Mar, and takes a careful step forward. "Boy! what in the name of the emperor are you doing, running like Chaos Itself is on your heels? Engaged in Criminal activities, no doubt. Speak!"

Mar fights back a growl, his distate for the uphivers rising to combat the stark fear the giant man had inspired in him a few minutes ago. Still ready to vanish through the floor if need be, Mar stands a little straighter.

"No, sir. i was hunting Skavies for our settlement, when i came across a Giant of a man...who arrived through some kind of Portal...He looked like a Chaos Marine That you hear about in the legends...He was huge, and his Armor was all dirty and misshapen, and just looking at him gave me the creeps."

The commisar's eyes narrowed, as he looked at the boy. No older than maybe 16 or 17 lifeyears, standing just under six feet tall, a skinny thing, but with the wiry muscles of someone who has to work hard for his food. The commisar notices several scars on the boy's arms that look like cuts from knife fights, and recognizes the familiar bulge of a pistol under one of the kid's arms. There is pride, and no small amount of fear in the vital green eyes thet glare out from under the dirty brown hair at the commisar, and dart around the filthy underhive cavern.

"The emperor hates a Liar, boy. Tell me the truth of it, before i drag it from you."

" I speak the truth!" the boy growls, "if you do not trust my word, then by all means find him yourself, and may you be blessed in the afterlife!"

With that, Mar prepares to use his ability to drop through the floor, depending on how the men react. Stupid, Mar. real stupid! what in Ichor are you doing, challenging a commisar? great way to get yourself dead.


OOC: if anything i posted was contradictory to how your character would act, or if i got any details wrong, put it in the OOC thread, and i'll fix it right up. Violence, or the continued threat of violence, will result in Mar using his trick to vanish, but cash or some other such payment may be able to coax him into showing the commisar the Chaos Marine's location. orders or religous demands will have little effect to sway the boy. /OOC

OOC: Quick note for those not familiar with Necromunda: Spryers are bored rich kids who buy expensive and advanced weapons to go hunting underhivers.

Shas'Ui Telkure was quickly running out of patience.

He'd been running around for the past hour, tracking the other escape pod, but the twists and turns of this damned warren were making progress impossible. He was almost ready to start blasting himself a path, but he only had six clips for his Pulse Carbine, and didn't want to waste them.

"First priority: find a map." he muttered, then, "Secong priority, find another weapon. Third, find the others and get the ka'resh off this rock."

He ran out of the dimly lit tunnel, into a relitivly open area, with a few prefab buildings. He quickly looked around, spotted three tunnels leading off. One of them was almost exactly the right direction to reach his comrads. He started towards it at a jog. A pair of armed humans stepped out of a building and blocked his way. He slowed to a walk and lifted his Pulse Carbine as three more moved around behind him.

One of the humans ahead of him, brandishing a new-model Imperial Lasgun, growled at him. "Going somewhere, Spryer?"

Another human, brandishing a grenade launcher of some sort spoke before he could reply. "He's sure in a hurry, ain't he? Musta got lost from his fellow hunters."

"Not Spryer. No conflict have with you." Telkure undid the snaps holding his helmet, pulled it off. "Searching for friends."

The humans paused, realizing he was an alien. After a moment, their leader smiled. "Fair enough." He lowered his weapon. "You can pass through our territory. Just need ya to pay the toll."

"Have no Imperial credits." Telkure groaned inwardly and prepared for things to get ugly.

"Too bad. Get 'im!" The leader snapped his weapon up, loosed a shot at him. Telkure was already dodging, felt it crease his shoulderpad. The larger group of humans was the more dangerous. He drew on them, fired a Photon Grenade from his launcher. He averted his eyes as it burst in a blinding flash. The trio bellowed obsenities as they blinked away the flashblinding.

He heard the bark of a shotgun as the other two gangers charged towards him. He rolled to his feet, firing, and cut the shotgunner in half with a burst of Pulse fire. The leader drew a blade the lenght of his forearm and lept at him. The blade bit into his armor, he swung his Carbine up like a club, caught his opponent in the side of the head. Leaping back, he fired another pulse burst, tearing the man's head off.

A grenade exploded behind him, blowing him off his feet. The ganger with the grenade launcher was squinting out of one eye, enough vision back to aim, but withought accuracy. He fired again, the grenade sailed over Telkure's head and exploded against one of the buildings. Telkure sythed fire accross the three remaining gangers, dropped two of them before his clip emptied. The remaining ganger brandished a pair of blades and charged. Reloading quickly, he managed a single shot from the hip as the ganger lept at him. It tore one of the human's arms off and threw off his leap. The man crashed into the pavement beside him. Telkure finished him with a swift boot to the head.

For a long moment, he simply lay their, catching his wind. Then he pulled himself upright and surveyed the scene. Well, he'd definately taken care of his second priority, and perhaps his first as well. He retrieved his helmet and stripped the bodies. He couldn't find a map, but he came up with a Lasgun, an accross-the-back holster for it, and a half-dozen energy packs. He retrieved the big combat knife from the gang leader, and its sheath, attaching it to a bandoleer wich he stuffed with grenades. He'd managed to total the grenade launcher. He also relieved the gangers of their credits. He had no idea how much they would buy him, but even a little was better than none. He knew he'd wind up needing some soon.

His business here completed, he continued towards the signal marking his companions.

\The Warsmith saw the young man running off, well felt would be a better way of describing it. He felt the soul of more clearly than most of the others in this cursed place. He would enjoy hunting this human, but first he had other things to take care of. He started off through the hive, he had stayed still for too long in the same place and he was sure that the ganger had gone to get help from others, he was not ready to be discovered just yet.


OOC: I'm going to add more to this, but I just don't have the time right now

\Play looked at the entrance to the Hive, people were moving around quite rapidly as always, but somehow it seemed so very differant.
\Being in a lone cell for a year in another Hive will change how you see things outside. Play thinks to himself.

P: Tunes, this place has changed much since I left, the smell is even different, I don't know why, but it feels less like I'm home and more like I'm visiting someone elses house.

\Play limps slightly into the terminal, using a crude walking stick covered in musical notes as his footsteps shuffle through the assorted debris around the place.
\People move around him and his partner.

T: Sirs. We. Will. Be. Late.

P: I guess you are right Tunes. The lady is waiting for us after all.

/Play limps to a waiting transport and waits as Tunes puts the luagage away within.
/Tunes begins to drive when Play stops him for a moment.

P: Tunes, tell the lady that I will be slightly late, I think I will walk today.

T: Sir. You. Are. Not. Safe. This. Low. In. The. Hive.

P: I grew up here Tunes, just go and tell the Lady I will be late, okay. I'll make my way and see you in a few hours.

T: Sir.

/Play knew that the Servitor was trying to keep him safe, but knew that its motivations were greater than that. As it disappered into the distance he felt a moment of regret, softened by the sounds of Gunfire nearby.
/He felf much more at home almost immediatly.

P: What a lovely day in the hive.

OOC: I don't know enough about Warhammer to go into too deep a level of description, so once more forgive the more glaring errors.