Iron, Flesh and blood.

Alright you two, you know the score.
Planet: Todesloch. Former imperial foundry world, enslaved by the iron warriors forty seventh grand company over one standard millenia ago. Now its people are little more than cattle, meat and manpower for the great production facilities, churning out war machine after war machine. There have been rebellions of course. And they just resulted in piles of bodies sent to processing facility omega. There is no hope on Todesloch.
The following are things your character would be aware of, by reputation if not in person.

Eisenstadt: the great 'city' you currently reside in. Dark, humid, hard to breath as the great production facilities belch pollution and smoke into the atmosphere. Heavily void shielded and defended against almost all possible threats. Outside this city, other than a few smaller facilities, it's nothing but a polluted desert.

The Iron Bastion: the command facility of the iron warriors, a great citadel towering over the entire city.

The wall: A gigantic fortified wall surrounding the city of Eisenstadt, with several miles of empty land between it and the city's own walls. So much armour and firepower it seems like any assault would be suicide, no matter the size.

Processing Omega: facility in Eisenstadt. You've never been inside. It's where the disposal teams take the bodies of dead slaves, and where the most badly wounded are sent. You've never seen someone come out of there that wasn't from a disposal team, or an iron warrior.

The Steel Harbinger: flagship of the defence fleet. Gigantic battleship. has a worryingly large tally of confirmed hostile ship kills.

The Iron Auxilia: the soldier slaves of Todesloch. That's you.

General Wenck: your regiment commander. Never seen him. You just know he's a git.

Major Gruber: your platoon commander. You know this guy. He's a hardass, but not that bad surprisingly, so long as the iron warriors aren't about. A bit too eager when putting down slave revolts though.

The Jackals: the elite of the slave soldiers. The guys who hunt down other slaves who try to escape. Watch your arse around them, they're the only slaves permitted to kill other 'property' of the iron warriors.

Daratis: The warsmith. The ruler of Todesloch. You've never seen him, but you've heard his voice as it issues decrees and commands. Just his voice makes you piss yourself.

The Stahlbrecher: The warsmith's bodyguard. You know they wear really big fucking armour, and are scary as shit. that's all you know.

Vulkar: The Fabricator. The tech lord of Eisenstadt. Again, you've never seen him, but you know him by reputation. He's in charge of the planet's production. He scares you more even than the Warsmith. You may have heard his voice through one of his 'proxies', servitor like abominations that all bare the terrified face of the unwilling man who was turned into it. Rumor has it they can still remember who they were. And they're screaming inside.

The Iron Blood: Like servo skulls, but darker and more sinister. Created by Vulkar, they are his spies, and chances are one is always watching you, whether you know it's there or not. They're everywhere.

Volksnarbe: The iron warrior you've seen the most, unfortunately. Volksnarbe is the enforcer of order among the 'flesh' as he calls you slaves. Known for just how cruel and sadistic he can be, his armour is covered in the bones of slaves who's pain he took a liking to, and his back is adorned with a cloak of their skin.

Erdreißer: The master of ordnance among the Iron warriors. You know him as loud and unsubtle, much like the artillery he loves so damn much.

The Erdfetzen: Erdreißer's Havocs. Iron warriors with big fucking guns. You've heard there's about ten of them.

Luftbrenner: Commander of the planetary air force and orbital defences. You know fuck all about him as you're not his jursasdiction.

The Luftschleusen: Luftbrenner's Raptors. Iron warriors with choppy things and jump packs. Like their commander, you've barely seen them.

The Eisenbruder: the standard iron warriors marines. If you've been counting the different ones when you see them, you'll know there's 20 in all.

Verräter: a name you may have heard in hushed whispers. Even the iron warriors don't like talking about 'it'

Hatom Sar: The sorcerer. Seems very different to the other iron warriors, in a lot of ways. Wears similar bulky armour to the warsmith's bodyguards but with a lot of differences, such as no tusks, less bulk, and some kind of striped head crest.

The Prosperine Sentinels: You know little about these four silent astartes. All you know is, they share the sorcerer's head crest, they're usually used as guards, and their bullets appear to be on fire.

The Blutherren: These five are easily noticable as different by their behavior, along with their distinctive helmets, chainaxes, and the skull like symbols etched into their armour. Being around them is a death sentence usually.

Alright lads, state yer characters and basic backstory. Yer equipment you're allowed is flakk armour, your rations (mostly consisting of some kind of 'food paste') three fragmentantion grenades, a combat knife, a rifle, a sidearm and a rebreather.

Name: Owen Pekoe
Rank: Lieutenant
Regiment: Praetorian 8th
Primary: Kalibrax V-1 Pattern Lasrifle
Secondary: Colt Model 1860 New Army Stub Revolver
Equipment: Flak armour, rations, tattered uniform, combat knife

Backstory: Born on Praetoria, Owen was pretty much doomed to a life in the military. And at 12 he was forcibly enrolled into one of the many military academies on Praetoria for the crime of petty theft. He first saw combat at 15 years old, and managed to survive until his 19th Birthday, unfortunately his platoon was soon massacred and Owen left for dead. The Iron Warriors captured the boy and dumped him on one of their many planets as a slave.
Physically he's about as fit as can be expected, with only a few scars to remind him of his life before all this.

His hair is a raven black and his eyes are a dull grey, with a light stubble gracing his face.

Rhys Hayes, previous bodyguard to rogue trader Felix Coleman. Carries a Triplex pattern assault laspistol, and a Merovech assault pattern lasgun. His left side is scarred deeply by burns, which he covers with bandage wraps. The burns spread across his face, leaving the skin on his left cheek and the back of his neck, fibrous and warped. Any further and the flames would have claimed his left eye. His old clothing was completely ruined by the flames, leaving him wearing whatever military fatigues he was given.

Alright lets begin
It's early in the morning. The two of you are on patrol duty around the streets of Eisenstadt. Just by luck, you've been paired together. Up to you two if they know eachother already. it's hard to breathe without your rebreathers due to the sheer amount of smog being belched into the sky. All around you, slaves toil at their workstations, as the whip of their masters cracks to drive them on. No matter where you are, three words can be seen from above, on the side of the towering buildings, positioned so all can see them at all times.
OBEDIENCE. LABOUR. FIDELITY.

Owen: "Another wonderful day in paradise"

Rhys: "Sure is..." *he hasn't talked much all shift, the scar tissue on the side of his face doesn't move as much as the other side, giving him a lopsided appearance while talking*

Owen: *Sighs and keeps on walking* "Where you from?"

"Verghast... you?"

"Praetoria"

All of a sudden you start to hear a commotion from nearby. Including screaming. Agonising screaming.

"Well shit, time to go do out jobs." *he sets off at a jog towards the sound*

Owen: *Under his breath* "Ah shit" *He jogs toward the commotion*

what they find is a crowd of slaves, gathered around the edges of a courtyard like area. in the middle, in the only real open space as they watch the two men in the middle. One of them they know from his uniform is this area's local 'enforcer', taser goad in hand. Huddled on the floor is the source of the screaming, and the owner of the blood splattered on the floor and the taser goad, as the enforcer beats him again and again.
"DO YOU SCUM SEE NOW?!" the man shouts "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO MAKE AN EXAMPLE OF ONE OF YOU WORMS?!"

*Rhys just stands and watches, his lasgun held loosely to his chest. They've seen this shit before.*

*Owen does similarly, letting out a quiet sigh*

after another beating, the slave lets out a cry
"GOD EMPEROR SAVE ME!"
the enforcer pauses, a look of hatred creeping across his face. the shock in the crowd is obvious from the atmosphere.

Rhys: *Mumbles* "Kid fucked up."

"Got that right"

the enforcer glares. "Let this.... Be an example to you all" *he draws his pistol* "That the corpse emperor cannot hear you..."

Rhys: "And here's the part where someone takes the gun off him and we actually have to do work."

Owen: I don't think anyone is that stupid

Rhys: "Well if he keeps waving the fucking thing around someone will get the idea"

Owen: "Maybe, but that's if they're not scared shitless. Plus they know we're here"

the enforcer aims the pistol at the quivering man, his finger tightening on the trigger, deliberately making it agonisingly slow, so as to elongate the man's suffering. The slave whimpers on the floor as he prepares for the end....
+Restrain yourself Peon.+

The voice is one you recognise, One that sends shivers down your spine. From the crowd, an abomination emerges. Floating a few feet off of the air, the thing is hunched over, mostly covered by a torn, black cloak, with various mechanical appendages emerging, usually in the form of large, dangerous looking claws or other tools and weapons. Beneath the hood, the frozen visage of a screaming man's stretched face can just about be made out. The creature lacks legs entirely, simply floating through the air as it approaches the enforcer. the Man, who moments before was filled with naught but rage, has gone pale as he drops down onto one knee
"m-my Lord Vulkar! I...I did not realise..."
+Why has production in this area halted?+
"This slave my lord... h-he is one of the new batch. Still defiant. H-he made the sign of the aquila my lord. I had to show the rest that will not be tolerated!"

*Rhys seethes at the floating abomination.*

*Owens face remains completely emotionless, as he nudges Rhys, reminding the man to keep his feelings masked*

the proxy floats over to the whimpering man. it seems to study him for a few moments. After that its' appendages reach down and grab the man by the upper arms, forcing him onto his feet. its grip then tightens. the man screams aloud as you can hear the bones in his arms breaking.

*He manages to slacken his expression, and just watches.*

*Owen focuses on a point beyond the screaming man and waits*

the proxy drops the screaming man before turning its attention back to the enforcer.
+Have some of your men dangle him four feet above the furnace in chains. Every five minutes he does not make that aquila sign with his hands, lower him an inch. We'll see if his emperor protects him.
Have the rest return to work.+
"Y-yes my lord!"

*Rhys shrugs, and starts walking back towards their patrol route*

*Owen turns and follows Rhys*

the two realise however, that the proxy is now headed directly for them

OOC: Oh dear

Owen: *Under breath* "Oh no"

Rhys: "Might not want us. Hasn't said anything yet."

+Soldiers.+

*Mutters* "Me and my big mouth" *spins around on his heel and talks normally* "My lord."

*Turns on the balls of his feet and performs a crisp salute*
"Sir"

+I trust your patrol is going well. Anything to report?+

Owen: "Nothing to report sir"

Rhys: "As he says sir."

+Excellent.... Tell me, have either of you noticed anything... unusual on your patrols at all? Anything at all?+

Rhys: "I, dealt with some contraband... a week ago? Some guy selling aquillas and such."

Owen: "Afraid not sir"

+Unfortunate....+

"Do you... want us to look for something particular?"

*Owen waits for an answer to Rhys' question*

+No... Back to your duties.+ the proxy floats off

*Once it's out of earshot*
"The fuck was that about?"

*rhys shrugs* "I don't fuckin know."