A slightly smaller Mess

Lyanna: *hug* even better to both live to fight another day.

Charles: Right. Lets get down there. *boards dropship unt zey take off*

Tyren: "I'm not planning on dying for nothing, but if it's the only option to keep you safe."

*Ze flying*

*charles n co land within a clearing in the forest. Think a forest from germany*
*astartes land on high ground*

Lyanna: we could escape without you doing that you know. If we plan ahead.

OOC: I suppose some scene setting wouldn't hurt.

Chittering. That was safety on this world.
The forest was home to creatures of this world, even here life somehow found a way.
How he envied their ignorance so much.

He bitterly bit down onto the sweet meat, skewered in his hand, letting his frustration vent.
The creatures reminded him of home, N'Dras was so far away.
The populous were ever-so ignorant of the sheer vastness of the universe, they would look up at the sky and believe that all those stars were in their grasp.
Like the animals he feasted upon during his stay.

He stomped out the fire infront of him, perhaps a water caste poet could interpret it in some artistic way. This grizzled veteran turning his back on the old ways, smothering the fires in his soul.
He smiled to some amusement, turning to his crippled suit.
Too many water caste, never enough earth caste engineers.

He thumb over a switch on the suits hull, dim lights coming to life, opening the suits hatch, sanctuary for now.
Back to searching the comms...

the valkyries touch down in the clearing, the tempestus scions along with charles' personal dudes disembarking

OOC its possible raeven's fallen asleep :P

OOC: Heh

Buzzing?
He fervently adjusted his equipment, searching for the signals.
Finally some hope of contact, or better.
Perhaps Orks in need of culling.

Gue'la?

The Shas'O's brow furrowed and his vision grew grim.
They would find him.
No escape.
No rescue.

He snatched his pulse blaster from the suits hatch, hitting the open switch with his free hand, rather harshly.
This was how it was to be.

He rushed out of his suit before taking a moment.
Forlornly looking back at his suit he realised what he had forgotten, silently he stalked back to the cockpit.

He tied his honour blade to his armour, securing it tightly with a blue sash.
If he was to see combat he would die honourably.

He began to walk into the dense forest.

Charles begins to psychically scan the forest, for signs of intelligent life, or perhaps the artifact...
He senses some kind of psychic...mass. Scattered across the entire forest. The sheer amount of flora and fauna interferring with his ability to identify it.
"Tempestor Prime, Secure the perimitor. I doubt we're alone here."

OOC: Rae is not asleep.

*Upon the hill, the salamanders form a loose perimiter, weapons pointed outwards, down into the forest. Their eyes, unique among space marines, peering into the infra red spectrum, searching for the slightest heat signiture.*

Tyren: "They could come any day now,"

*The legionaries fan out, bracing weapons, and staring silently out into the darkness beneath the canopy*

OOC yay
IC the deathwatch marines do likewise

Lyanna: then we plan now.

Charles: Hera, Laurence, sense anything?

Laurence: "Fuck tonne of animals... A hitherto unknown species of snake with an interesting neurotoxin... Various predators.... and... Do you see the... something, something big."

Tyren: "Beyond, run, whats your idea?"

Charles: I do....this is...odd. 
*there's a sudden scream from one of the scions. There's a huge, primitive looking spear jutting out of his face as he hits the floor*

Lyanna: well....we'd need to go somewhere.

The Shas'O slammed himself against a monolithic tree trunk, taking a moment to grab an item from his belt.

Sliding it over his right eye, the tech clipped into his ear-piece, the fin-like receiver extended.
Text and UI flashed across his vision as it booted up, a pair of red dots staring out into the world.
It quickly interfaced with his weapon, his heads up display running through diagnostics and eventually it fully came online.

He slapped his motion-sensor onto the side of his weapon, without missing a beat it shortly activated on his display.
A small amount of excitement swelled.

He felt like a Shas'La again.

He stalked into the forests.

Mac: "ON YOUR BELT BUCKLES! I WANT THAT FOREST LEVELED!" 
*The legionaries are quick to comply, dropping to prone, firing at anything that moves.*

Laurence: *Standing calmly, hands clasped behind his back* "Caiber, do you see anything?" 

Hera: *Runs a few meters, and puts her back to a tree next to mac, then leans around it, and unleashes a gout of flame into the forest.*

Charles: no....a spear? That large, primitive....oh throne that must mean-
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
*A horde of Feral orks suddenly spring from ambush points on all sides, rushing the scions in a headlong sprint, A large number of 'boarboyz' among their number*

Screams?

Clearly, barely a sprint away he began to run to the sound before it was overtake by the bestial war cry of the Be'gel.

He grinned, even better.

He broke the tree line to watch the advancing greenskins fall upon the Gue'la.
He took a short moment to consider his actions, it was unlikely the Gue'la would thank him for his assistance, nor spare him...

They may well likely just shoot him in the chaos of it all, not even giving him a satisfying fight.
Until his ebony eyes rested upon the greenskins with great malice.

A fight is a fight after all.

He rushed into the fray, opening salvos from his blaster.

*with an equally joyous yell, jack launches himself into the oncoming ork formation, blades flashing. Mute flicks a switch on his heavy bolter, and switches to the heavy flamer, unleashing a gout of flame, hera joins mute's blaze, with baleful flames of the mind. Mac stands, firing his shotgun from the hip into the horde*

*A yell is at the throats of each and every legionary, screaming back at the orks. Mutes wordless yell, jack's shout of glee, hakken's obscenities, Mac yells wordlessly, and hera slips into her old role* 

Hera: "HOLD YOUR GROUND! *she pulls a scion, shocked by the spear in his comrade's death, and yells in his face* "FOLLOW MY EXAMPLE OR I WILL MAKE YOU ONE!"

The scions form rigid gunlines, pouring fire into the orkish lines, unleashing punishing volleys of hot shot fire
but the greenskins numbers lead them to reach melee combat in more places than not.
Charles himself dives into the fray, slicing and shooting aswell as frying greenskin minds
And then he notices the Tau

*Laurence is amidst the carnage himself, skin silvered, and tearing into the greenskins with bare hands,*

The member 'Captain Raeven' has done the following action : Challange Fate

---

'd20' : 11

*Laurence catches a glimpse of the tau, and begins to steadily make his way through the orkish horde towards him*

The Orks torso incinerates as soon as he gets into close range, the pulse blaster making short work of the hulking alien.
Blasters were made to cut down Astartes at this range, their pulse powered answer to a shotgun.
What did the Gue'la used to say?

"This is my boomstick!" Perfect lower gothic.
He kept his left on the trigger, freeing his right to reach to his honour blade, waiting for the next oncoming blade.
He felt the kick as he one handed the blaster, waiting for the greenskins to come within it's killing range, didn't need to aim that hard either.

OOC: Gotta love that I'm completely forgotten how to challenge fate.

OOC heheh
IC Charles, getting frustrated, Casts invisibility on the penal legionarres and himself, rendering them almost impossible for the greenskins to see, as he dives back into the fray
i'm sure Jack will make the most of that

*jack, already a whirlwind of unforgiving death, becomes a relentless machine, each swordblow is fatal,without need to block dodge or parry, he simply focuses on landing every single hit on a vital point, killing orks by the bushel*

*Laurence, now seemingly standing alone among them, becomes the main target for a large proportion of the ork force, the feral beasts hammering him with fists and crude weapons. He responds in kind, vicious claws of adamantium protruding from his fingertips, making short work of the beasts.*

Behind laurence, Caiber hacks his way through the melee to reach his companion, Bonesword making a mockery of orkish flesh and armour, Even bringing down one of their hulking Nob leaders as he does so

A primitive axe blocked on the edge of his blade, the Shas'O brutally shoves the barrel into the Orks gut, pulling the the trigger as it's entrails turned to ash.

The Tau snaps around quickly, burying his honour blade hilt deep into an Orks skull, The Orks would soon realise they could pick off the straggler easily.
He drew his pistol and began to wildly fire at anything big and green, hoping to thin their numbers before the oncoming melee.

One large ork nob, riding an especially large boar like beast, comes thundering towards the tau

"...Son of a..." He brought both of his arms forward, pulling both triggers as quickly as he could, hoping to drown the Nob in a blue rain of pulse fire.

His blaster was almost dry...
He'd save his last shot.

the boar falls under the punishing volley, but the nob leaps from its back, hitting the floor as it prepares to charge
Before it can, a psychic bolt smashes into the ork's skull, killing it instantly

The Shas'O stopped, lowering his nearly spent blaster, searching for the source of the blast of energy.

Hera: "Keep firing damn you!" *The legionaries slowly move forwards, cutting down the orks with precise and concentrated fire.*

the tau sees charles stood before him
he's an impressive man, with armour and greatcoat reminiscent of a commissar, while on his head is the hat, long hair and finely trimmed facial hair reminiscent of a stereotypical english civil war Cavilier, a cavalry sabre in one hand

Tyren: "Where would we go... Not nocturne, they wouldn't understand."

Lyanna:...would your captain... you said he's as old as we are, maybe older.

"The enemy of my enemy..."
Ar'Kais had abandoned the tradition of tying his hair back, letting jet black locks flow freely, contrasting with his stark white armour and blue cape.
The beginnings of a gray streaked beard on his face.
To any Imperial he surely just looked like a 'Tau Commander'

He dropped his blaster to his feet, yanking his blade from an Orks face, making a simple nod to the Gue'la before stalking to the closest Ork.

Charles:...A Shas'O? Rather..unexpected.
*the greenskins, more than partially thanks to jack n such, are now mostly routed, melting into the forest and blending in almost perfectly*

Tyren: "He has rather a dim view of the traitor legions... He was present at istavan." 

Hera: "Brilliant work... couldn't ask for any more. Sound off casualties."

Lyanna: if he's anything like your old praetor...

*there are one or two scions lost in each squad, and one entire squad wiped out by a boarboy charge*

Tyren: "He's not. Pyriel was an optimist. How optimistic are we after ten thousand?"

Hera: "Get the injured to the center, leave the dead."

"Run Be'gel! Before the Gray-skin devil comes for you in the night! Cowards!" He fires more rounds into the tree-line, letting it run dry.

Taking a moment to breathe, he holstered his pistol, pacing to his blaster, watching the Gue'la out the corner of his eye as he crouched down for blaster.

"Humans are a rare sight here."

Jack: *Walking out from the trees chucking* "That was glorious!"

Lyanna:...I suppose... what about...laurence?

Charles; Tau even rarer. Tau fire cast as experienced as you appear to be, Rarer still.

"Ork pirates. Had to use my suit as an escape pod, drifted for four days before I hit the atmosphere." He scooped up his blaster, clipping it to the back of his armour underneath his cape, he turned to face the Gue'la forces.
Blade still unsheathed.

"Will I need to use this?"

Charles: if it was any other inquisitor maybe. I am Inquisitor von Carstien,of the ordo Xenos. You may have heard of me. I have a bit of a reputation at this point for my leniency towards non humans.

"I believe the point of your 'Inquisition' is for me not to of heard of you." He observed his blade, deciding it best just to sheath it, before slowly approaching the Gue'la forces.

"I haven't been informed of such an individual. My name is Shas'O N'Dras Ar'Kais Korst'La'Shi, formerly of the Tau Empire, a secessionist.

Charles: Farsight enclaves, presumably?

"I've had contact, but never formally joined their ranks, I rebelled a while after O'Shovahs enclaves were formed, we were chased from the Empire and scattered the fleet." He folded his arms over his chest.

"You seek something here?"

Charles: we do. An artifact, an ancient one. Necron in origin.