The officer stands in the elevator going down to the docking bay of the sleek cruiser, lost in thought, one hand holding a stack of personnel files, the other fingering the cruel scar that outlines his cybereye.
The last one was too close. Almost bought it. Almost...
His mind goes back to the starting days. Taking service in the Emperor's Great Armies. The 15th Founding. Together with Jack, Peter and.. Damn... What was his name. Don't matter. He's dead now. Landmine. And Jack. And Peter. Them and all the rest. Trench Warfare on Scepter, of all places. We were grinded to dust. First my first squad. Then my second. Them my third. Richie got a headshot. James turned and ran,then shot in the back by the commisariat. Then the rumors started. Then the gas and the attack.
Last man standing, the Emperor only knows why. Then the second army. Didn't help that the departio munitiorum didn't provide a new uniform until after a month. The rumors followed me. Bad Luck. Hexed. Have him in your squad and you die. Didn't help that the commissar executed a sarge who objected for spreading superstition, a capital offence. Hah, might as well have us all shot then. Then the tyrannids came. Hive Fleet Dagon. And again I lived where others died. Andthe rumors spread.
Ironically, being the odd man out put me in the tower, alone, with my heavy MG, when the attack came.
And then, when I am down to my last rounds trying to shoot them buggers off my squadmates, something hits an ammo dump. So that's me being seen shooting down at my own compound en then something going boom and killing off every thing living, friend and foe alike. Valkyries were circling to drop the reinforcements. Adeptus Astartes, of all things. Dressed in black armor with their chapters markings on one shoulder. One of them even praised me for making such a valorous sacrifice. I recognised the chapter. Dark Angels. The fourteenth disappeared when on an action with the Dark Angels. And everyone knows someone who knows someone who swears he recognised his granddad turned into a servitor. He had a burn that mutilated his smile when he said he'd recommend me.
And now this. A promotion. A couple of squads. And everyone of them composed of misfits. Of survivors. Ready to get shuttled off. To the...
He checks his papers again, looking for the name of the transport he's supposed to find .
You sit in the cargo-bay turned troop-transport. Surrounded by strangers, as you have been since you lost the rest of your unit to the enemy. Suddenly you hear someone outside laugh. Probably read the name of your shuttle.
The Emperor's Own Luck
Hi there. I'm starting my third and last dark Heresy game. Players in my other campaigns are wellcome
. No knowledge of the rules needed.
You are the survivors of an army, grouped together with a few others who have had the same problem. Choose any homeworld/profession. You start with 7000 XP. I will seriously consider any matarial from any of the sourcebooks. Expect a 'dirty dozen' kind of adventure, with loads of action and horror
The last one was too close. Almost bought it. Almost...
His mind goes back to the starting days. Taking service in the Emperor's Great Armies. The 15th Founding. Together with Jack, Peter and.. Damn... What was his name. Don't matter. He's dead now. Landmine. And Jack. And Peter. Them and all the rest. Trench Warfare on Scepter, of all places. We were grinded to dust. First my first squad. Then my second. Them my third. Richie got a headshot. James turned and ran,then shot in the back by the commisariat. Then the rumors started. Then the gas and the attack.
Last man standing, the Emperor only knows why. Then the second army. Didn't help that the departio munitiorum didn't provide a new uniform until after a month. The rumors followed me. Bad Luck. Hexed. Have him in your squad and you die. Didn't help that the commissar executed a sarge who objected for spreading superstition, a capital offence. Hah, might as well have us all shot then. Then the tyrannids came. Hive Fleet Dagon. And again I lived where others died. Andthe rumors spread.
Ironically, being the odd man out put me in the tower, alone, with my heavy MG, when the attack came.
And then, when I am down to my last rounds trying to shoot them buggers off my squadmates, something hits an ammo dump. So that's me being seen shooting down at my own compound en then something going boom and killing off every thing living, friend and foe alike. Valkyries were circling to drop the reinforcements. Adeptus Astartes, of all things. Dressed in black armor with their chapters markings on one shoulder. One of them even praised me for making such a valorous sacrifice. I recognised the chapter. Dark Angels. The fourteenth disappeared when on an action with the Dark Angels. And everyone knows someone who knows someone who swears he recognised his granddad turned into a servitor. He had a burn that mutilated his smile when he said he'd recommend me.
And now this. A promotion. A couple of squads. And everyone of them composed of misfits. Of survivors. Ready to get shuttled off. To the...
He checks his papers again, looking for the name of the transport he's supposed to find .
You sit in the cargo-bay turned troop-transport. Surrounded by strangers, as you have been since you lost the rest of your unit to the enemy. Suddenly you hear someone outside laugh. Probably read the name of your shuttle.
The Emperor's Own Luck
Hi there. I'm starting my third and last dark Heresy game. Players in my other campaigns are wellcome
. No knowledge of the rules needed.You are the survivors of an army, grouped together with a few others who have had the same problem. Choose any homeworld/profession. You start with 7000 XP. I will seriously consider any matarial from any of the sourcebooks. Expect a 'dirty dozen' kind of adventure, with loads of action and horror
