Game of the Gods: A Warhammer 40,000 character bash
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How little it knows of how good Schola Excubitos training is... for he is the Red Horseman. His twin sons are Terror and Panic. His daughter is Clancy.Malifact said:
No, you're right. I'm pretty much stuffed.
I like the idea of Krork being the original term for Ork by the way.
Tyranid Hive Tyrant. (does he need a name? :s)
+------+
Backstory
+------+
"Did you hear that?"
The Imperial Guardsmen looked out into the night, trying to make out what made the sound that he thought he heard.
"Nope?" His friend on duty with him said.
"I was sure i heard something...."
Sitting back down, he pulled his cloak around him and shuffled closer to the fire.
But then it came again.
A low sounding growl... coming from the darkness right outside their bunker.
The guardsmen stuck his head up again... and in one sudden movement, it was sheared off by a massive scythe looking arm.
"OH SHIT!" his friend screamed, scrambling backwards and firing into the night.
All at once, it was silent again.
The Hive Tyrant stepped over the fire. It was time for feeding.
It was named Dusk's Reaper by the Imperial Guard on the world Meduasa IV.
It came... and killed all who oppposed it.
It was a legend, to scare little kids to bed.
But in the army, the guard knew.. it was real.
It had come from the depths of the Tyranid space.
This was not any ordinary Hive Tyrant.
Displeased with the lack of fighting going on with it's swarm, it had left, to terrorise the world by itself.
Sorry if it's a little short. I'm tired and i don't think Tyranids really need a long back story :3
+------+
Backstory
+------+
"Did you hear that?"
The Imperial Guardsmen looked out into the night, trying to make out what made the sound that he thought he heard.
"Nope?" His friend on duty with him said.
"I was sure i heard something...."
Sitting back down, he pulled his cloak around him and shuffled closer to the fire.
But then it came again.
A low sounding growl... coming from the darkness right outside their bunker.
The guardsmen stuck his head up again... and in one sudden movement, it was sheared off by a massive scythe looking arm.
"OH SHIT!" his friend screamed, scrambling backwards and firing into the night.
All at once, it was silent again.
The Hive Tyrant stepped over the fire. It was time for feeding.
It was named Dusk's Reaper by the Imperial Guard on the world Meduasa IV.
It came... and killed all who oppposed it.
It was a legend, to scare little kids to bed.
But in the army, the guard knew.. it was real.
It had come from the depths of the Tyranid space.
This was not any ordinary Hive Tyrant.
Displeased with the lack of fighting going on with it's swarm, it had left, to terrorise the world by itself.
Sorry if it's a little short. I'm tired and i don't think Tyranids really need a long back story :3
[spoiler = So what happens now?]
Incarael looked around his new surroundings, his augmetic eye slowly scanning for possible threats, whilst similtaneously scanning the terrain.
+++
warp energy readings were sky high. Or, would have been, if this place had a visible sky...
+++
He first layed eye (and scanner) upon the Command squad of the imperial guard. It was difficult to miss, what with the rediculously high levels of unstable plasma surrounding them. He didn't notice anything signifying heretics. But, then again, he had arrived here without warning.
+++
The next, was a lone human. smoking. Filthy, fleshy habbit. Typical of those un-initiated in the ways of the machine. The long black leather jacket, and the silly red cap indicated it was a member of the comissariat. 'Joy'. Incarael mused. 'Just what we need, another Emperor bothering loon.' Engery levels from under the mans jacket indicated he was armed with a plasma pistol. He could become a threat.
Incarael noticed a small boxy device strapped at the mans belt, with strong, fluctuating engery levels emitting from it.
' A commissar with a refractor field. There's a surprise. What next, an ork with malfunctioning weaponry?'
+++
Due to the sheer size of the next being, it was fairly obvious that it was an Ork. Feelings of both joy and anger surfaced in Incarael's mind. Anger, in that he'd seen a great deal of his bretheren killed by the foul green skins. He'd lost both of his legs to the ork's equivelant of a mechanic before. Joy, in that, as perusual, the ork was carrying what could be called standard for an ork. A large, poorly maintained bolter-type weapon, covered in rust and scorch marks. A flamer had been crudely stuck onto the side of the weapon. Unblessed, and not looked after, Incarael doubted that the weapons would pose much of a threat - and that was before he considered the beast's accuracy, or, to be more precise, lack of . The large combat weapon - would probably be a danger. He would have to remember to try and avoid that.
+++
The final creature set his scanner's energy level readings off the scale. He didn't have to look at it to work out what it was.
Blasphemous machine. Unholy icon. Insult in the name of the great machine.
necron
He hadn't seen the necrons for what felt like an eternity. Even if it had been, he still would have prefered to wait longer before a reunion. He'd been a humble adapt, on field training with the mechanicus when he's encountered the necron threat. Unrelenting, fearless and nearly unstoppable. They nearly wiped out the expedition he was on. A feeling a dread crept into his mind, as he remembered the images of fellow Mechanicus personel being cut down, and flayed alive by guass weapons.
He slammed the fuel cell into his combi melta, and his grip tightened on his hammer.
A lust for battle flooded what was left of his blood. He wouldn't let it happen again. But - for now - he'd wait. Now was not the time to attack.
+++
Incarael lost sight of the various creatures stuck with him here, in this location. Having seen some of the threats against him, he contemplated what he could do.
But now began the long waiting game. As even now, it appeared more creatures were arriving.
[/spoiler]
Incarael looked around his new surroundings, his augmetic eye slowly scanning for possible threats, whilst similtaneously scanning the terrain.
+++
warp energy readings were sky high. Or, would have been, if this place had a visible sky...
+++
He first layed eye (and scanner) upon the Command squad of the imperial guard. It was difficult to miss, what with the rediculously high levels of unstable plasma surrounding them. He didn't notice anything signifying heretics. But, then again, he had arrived here without warning.
+++
The next, was a lone human. smoking. Filthy, fleshy habbit. Typical of those un-initiated in the ways of the machine. The long black leather jacket, and the silly red cap indicated it was a member of the comissariat. 'Joy'. Incarael mused. 'Just what we need, another Emperor bothering loon.' Engery levels from under the mans jacket indicated he was armed with a plasma pistol. He could become a threat.
Incarael noticed a small boxy device strapped at the mans belt, with strong, fluctuating engery levels emitting from it.
' A commissar with a refractor field. There's a surprise. What next, an ork with malfunctioning weaponry?'
+++
Due to the sheer size of the next being, it was fairly obvious that it was an Ork. Feelings of both joy and anger surfaced in Incarael's mind. Anger, in that he'd seen a great deal of his bretheren killed by the foul green skins. He'd lost both of his legs to the ork's equivelant of a mechanic before. Joy, in that, as perusual, the ork was carrying what could be called standard for an ork. A large, poorly maintained bolter-type weapon, covered in rust and scorch marks. A flamer had been crudely stuck onto the side of the weapon. Unblessed, and not looked after, Incarael doubted that the weapons would pose much of a threat - and that was before he considered the beast's accuracy, or, to be more precise, lack of . The large combat weapon - would probably be a danger. He would have to remember to try and avoid that.
+++
The final creature set his scanner's energy level readings off the scale. He didn't have to look at it to work out what it was.
Blasphemous machine. Unholy icon. Insult in the name of the great machine.
necron
He hadn't seen the necrons for what felt like an eternity. Even if it had been, he still would have prefered to wait longer before a reunion. He'd been a humble adapt, on field training with the mechanicus when he's encountered the necron threat. Unrelenting, fearless and nearly unstoppable. They nearly wiped out the expedition he was on. A feeling a dread crept into his mind, as he remembered the images of fellow Mechanicus personel being cut down, and flayed alive by guass weapons.
He slammed the fuel cell into his combi melta, and his grip tightened on his hammer.
A lust for battle flooded what was left of his blood. He wouldn't let it happen again. But - for now - he'd wait. Now was not the time to attack.
+++
Incarael lost sight of the various creatures stuck with him here, in this location. Having seen some of the threats against him, he contemplated what he could do.
But now began the long waiting game. As even now, it appeared more creatures were arriving.
[/spoiler]
For convinces: Jenkins J, Boris B, Max M, Doc D
´´Bye the Emperor, there were just a big flash and then I saw my mother´´(J) ´´And´´ (D) ´´She´s already dead for, ...... what year is it?´´(J) ´´I think it´s 40´´(D)
´´Shut up both of you we got company top side´´
´´Sir two o´clock, six o´clock also´´ (M)
´´Frak were surrounded, another 10 o´clock´´ (B)
´´What are we dealing with people´´
´´One greenskin, sir. It´s a big one´´ (B)
´´Bye the Emporer, is that a Astartes´´ (J)
´´Ooh frak is that old Whiplash´´ (J) ´´No it isn´t, you should now that bye now Jenkins. He is from another regiment, don´t now wich´´
´´Necron sir, looks like a lord´´ (M) ´´ A: how do you now that, B:What´s a freaking Necron, C:Why do you now what the hell that thing is and I don´t?´´
´´Living machine´s sir, not a blessed Omnissiah creation, rest i´m not allowed to say sir´´(M)
´´ Now that we sortied that out, were the frak are we?
´´Bye the Emperor, there were just a big flash and then I saw my mother´´(J) ´´And´´ (D) ´´She´s already dead for, ...... what year is it?´´(J) ´´I think it´s 40´´(D)
´´Shut up both of you we got company top side´´
´´Sir two o´clock, six o´clock also´´ (M)
´´Frak were surrounded, another 10 o´clock´´ (B)
´´What are we dealing with people´´
´´One greenskin, sir. It´s a big one´´ (B)
´´Bye the Emporer, is that a Astartes´´ (J)
´´Ooh frak is that old Whiplash´´ (J) ´´No it isn´t, you should now that bye now Jenkins. He is from another regiment, don´t now wich´´
´´Necron sir, looks like a lord´´ (M) ´´ A: how do you now that, B:What´s a freaking Necron, C:Why do you now what the hell that thing is and I don´t?´´
´´Living machine´s sir, not a blessed Omnissiah creation, rest i´m not allowed to say sir´´(M)
´´ Now that we sortied that out, were the frak are we?
Time....
Time was a constantly shifting force. The past, always thought of as a concrete thing, was in reality an ever-flowing concept. The memories of mortals faded and were altered by the passage of time, creating an always-changing portrait. And, as any who are servants of Tzeentch know, change is always a good thing.
However, the present at this time was dragging on agonizingly slow for a being as ancient as the Shifter. The game, destined to be a glorious event in the honor of all the Gods, seemed eternally damned to be delayed. The Lord of Change was growing increasingly impatient; even the competitors were growing tired of waiting. So, reaching into the Empyrean, the Shifter decided to live up to it's title...it was going to shake up the playing field.
------------
Bolts of energy flew across the battlefield, arcing over top of the entrenched guardsmen. The men of the Valhallan 432nd were hunkered down, praying to the God-Emperor to save them. The inexorable advance of the Valhallans had been halted, overcome by the fluid and altering style of combat of the Tau Empire; now, disciplined volleys of Pulse fire slew gue'la by the dozen, and it was only a matter of time before victory was achieved. All of this was due to the strategies of Shas'o'Fio'Kha'Nan; a master of the path of Mont'ka, Kha'Nan believed that a swift and brutal blow would overcome all in the name of the Greater Good. Flush from the liberation of several systems, Kha'Nan was well equipped by the Castes. His armor, covered in gleaming Iridium, was modified with drone holsters. Similar to those seen on Tau vehicles, these housed a pair of shield servant drones. Armed to the teeth, he was fully prepared for any enemy...or so he thought.
Time was a constantly shifting force. The past, always thought of as a concrete thing, was in reality an ever-flowing concept. The memories of mortals faded and were altered by the passage of time, creating an always-changing portrait. And, as any who are servants of Tzeentch know, change is always a good thing.
However, the present at this time was dragging on agonizingly slow for a being as ancient as the Shifter. The game, destined to be a glorious event in the honor of all the Gods, seemed eternally damned to be delayed. The Lord of Change was growing increasingly impatient; even the competitors were growing tired of waiting. So, reaching into the Empyrean, the Shifter decided to live up to it's title...it was going to shake up the playing field.
------------
Bolts of energy flew across the battlefield, arcing over top of the entrenched guardsmen. The men of the Valhallan 432nd were hunkered down, praying to the God-Emperor to save them. The inexorable advance of the Valhallans had been halted, overcome by the fluid and altering style of combat of the Tau Empire; now, disciplined volleys of Pulse fire slew gue'la by the dozen, and it was only a matter of time before victory was achieved. All of this was due to the strategies of Shas'o'Fio'Kha'Nan; a master of the path of Mont'ka, Kha'Nan believed that a swift and brutal blow would overcome all in the name of the Greater Good. Flush from the liberation of several systems, Kha'Nan was well equipped by the Castes. His armor, covered in gleaming Iridium, was modified with drone holsters. Similar to those seen on Tau vehicles, these housed a pair of shield servant drones. Armed to the teeth, he was fully prepared for any enemy...or so he thought.
That's right, guys. I've decided to shake things up a bit. Since volunteers have been dying down, I'll start filling in the empty slots with characters of my own creation. If enough people join in, then I'll take them out, but if not then they're fair game. The first entry is a very brave Shas'O, hoping superior firepower can carry the day.
Shas'O with Fusion Blaster, Cyclic Ion Blaster, Plasma Rifle, Iridium Armor, Stimulant Injectors, Failsafe Detonator, Hard-Wired Drone Controller, and 2 Shield Drones.
Shas'O with Fusion Blaster, Cyclic Ion Blaster, Plasma Rifle, Iridium Armor, Stimulant Injectors, Failsafe Detonator, Hard-Wired Drone Controller, and 2 Shield Drones.
Sorry, Dark Knifer! Totally forgot your sorceror out in the Warp somewhere...fixing that now. Beefed up your arrival to make it up for you.
Recovering from the brief moment of exertion, the Shifter looked up at the fruits of his labour. Blinking two sets of eyes in unison, it was shocked to see more than the fighter it had summoned. The Tau commander, scanning the room with mechanical precision, looked intimidating. Whereas the majority of competitors were armed with wicked melee weapons, the Tau epitomized his race's belief in superior technology and firepower. As proud as it was, The Shifter was far more intrigued by the surprise arrival.
Far more interesting than his appearance, the most interesting thing of the surprise competitor was that he wasn't summoned into a cell made of Tzeentch's Crystals; he walked through a portal of arcane power, directly beside the daemon of Tzeentch. With it's keen sight, it gazed at the being's armor. While blackened and scarred, the Power Armor of this Chaos Space Marine still bore an ancient marking of a Loyalist chapter. However, that was clearly a marking from more than 10,000 years ago; more than most of the other competitors, The Shifter sensed a great deal of viciousness from this one.
"So, daemon-chicken, what scheme have you devised that requires my presence?"
"Listen, little fleshling, and listen well, for mine is a voice of eons. Mine is a voice to have repeated secrets of Tzeentch Himself. Mine is a voice of Tzeentch made manifest. You will show your respect. Now explain your presence here, uninvited."
"Very well, oh Mighty Schemer. I sensed the building and discharge of a great source of power, and thought to seek it out at it's source. This scythe, gifted to me by the Gods, lets me cut through the very fabric, creating Warp Portals...I just use them to navigate to the sources of power in the Universe. The last time this happened, I was gifted with the opportunity to slaughter an entire Seer Council; I am relieved that this time it is a being of similar intentions. Now, I am merely intrigued of the plans of a fellow worshipper of the Great Trickster."
"Not even I am aware of the ends of this game, for Tzeentch rewrites the fates as we speak. Just know that your presence is required to further the Great Plan." The Daemon reached out, carressing the sorceror with a hand. Clutching a sphere of crackling energy, the Shifter drew a symbol on the Dark One's helmet in indigo flames, the emblem of Tzeentch now blazed on the Sorceror's helm, surrounded by a corona of pulsing energy. "Now, little one, you know that you are also a favoured one"
Don't worry guys, the Brand of Tzeentch will play no role in the competition...it's merely for story purposes.
[sub]So far[/sub]
[sub]So far[/sub]
To his own surprise, The Dark One found the source of the massive spikes of warp energy to be a mighty lord of change, kidnaping several warriors from across the galaxy. It seems that he had plans for him and many others to fight in a competition of sorts. He imagined that the daemon found great amusement out of this, daemons of Tzeentch were known for their crullty, but he had not heard of one going to such lengths for it's entertainment. He mused at the thought of the daemon having an alteriative motive, but what did it matter to him? He had been blessed by the Gods, he would annihilate the competition and receive even more power from his gods. This was definately worth the effort to track down...
Marcus could smell the stench of the warp coming off the crystals. His replacement eye wirred as his vision changed, he was glad now more than ever that it had theremal. He found that the warp crystals blurred his vision through his eye but it was better than not being able to see at all. There where eight sets of heat signiture and from what he could tell one of them was a small group of individuals and one was huge beyond measure.
Well, the waiting has lasted long enough. I've decided to throw in a little twist to the match-ups, you'll see after this.
Oh, and sorry DJDusk, Tyrant is covered
Oh, and sorry DJDusk, Tyrant is covered
With a thunderous crash, the latest creature entered the realm of the Shifter. Scuttling upright, the creature let out a keening screech. Towering much larger than anticipated, the creature's skull scratched the Crystal ceiling of the chamber. It was a Hive Tyrant, a massive behemoth of Chitin and flesh. The Hive Mind's sword, the Tyrant was a brutal creature. This one began thrashing around it's cell immediately, cut off from the guidance of the gestalt consciouness of the Tyranids. The Shifter grinned and chuckled; finally, there were enough pieces to begin.
In an instant, the realm shifted. The kidnapped soldiers and fighters, all growing weary and confused, were summoned to the middle of a grand pedestal. They were all seperated by a clear wall of Tzeentchian crystal. Suddenly, in the middle of the space erupted a pillar of light. The Shifter stepped out to finally face all of the lesser beings. Now, for a brief instant, they would all become useful.
With but a fragment of power, the Lord of Change modified it's voice so that all would effortlessly understand it. Then, unfurling it's wings, the Daemon spoke.
At last, the time has come! At last, the game can begin! Now there were supposed to be more of you, but it seems the Warp was hungry. However, their spirits shall not sleep. Make peace with whatever foolish Gods you believe in, and prepare for death. Those of you that are worthy, you will find your way back to this place. Ca-Cahahahaha!
And with a flash, the clucking laughter of the Shifter was all the competitors could hear. The flash of light was all they could see. They were stuck, immobile and deaf in a sleepless rest. Only Tzeentch knew what was coming next.
Okay, the waiting is almost over! I'll be applying for a User Group, and then the match-ups will kick off. Oh and just a heads-up on how this will work...
See 1:51 seconds
See 1:51 seconds