Subject: Dance magic, dance...
Author:
Posted on: 2018-04-08 04:59:00 UTC
No, wait, what am I doing? You have no power over me! You... have... no... gah, feet, why you no listen? Help! Someone gorgeous, save me! Preferably someone my swarthy good looks and I actually have a chance with!
(( So that's c), basically. {= ) ))
Huiensoron suggested more people should post games, so here's my attempt at a Warhammer 40,000 quest thread for the board:
You are Guardsman Siegfried Cortez, of the 56th Armageddon light infantry, a man of little skill and no renown, mocked by all who oppose you. You were ungracefully disgorged into a spire of some inconsequential hive city on a planet whose name you've forgotten, for a purpose the Sergeant saw no reason to tell you. He sent you to scout ahead while he went to loot a liquor store, and you have no idea where the rest of your squad has waltzed off to. And yes, they were waltzing last you saw. It was bizarre. Now you are in a corridor with just your gear and your wits. Your swarthy good looks and dashing accent can't save you now. What do you do?:
a) Go back the way you came, in search of your squad.
b) Go back the way you came, in search of the Squats.
c) Check your inventory.
d) Proceed deeper into the hive.
e) Bust some funky disco moves.
Did my no-account booze hound of a sergeant give me anything useful? Like whatever passes for currency around here? A map? A decent weapon? A stick of gum with a foil wrapper and some dental floss, even?
~Neshomeh doesn't know if they have those last two things in 40k, but oh well. I like your set-up and I'm not in the other game, so here I am. ^_^
You have the standard kit of your regiment:
One (1) lascarbine
Two (2) 30-shot power packs, one (1) already loaded into the lascarbine, one (1) in a belt pouch
Two (2) fragmentation grenades, currently on your belt
One (1) combat knife, currently in your belt sheath
One (1) uniform: a greatcoat, rubber boots, pants , gloves, goggles, belt with three (3) pouches and one (1) knife sheath, and boxer shorts; all of which you are wearing, and all of which are similar shades of brown and beige
One (1) Armageddon-pattern re-breather, which you are wearing
One (1) flak helmet, which you are wearing
One (1) flak vest, which you are wearing under your greatcoat
These things are notorious for getting dirty and jamming up at inopportune moments, like when confronted by, I dunno, boogie-inducing Chaos cultists or something.
hS
Being a laser weapon, it has few moving parts to jam, but you clean the lens and make sure that the power pack is loaded properly, as both of these commonly lead to malfunctions. As you take stock you realize that aren't wearing any socks. You appear to be in an abandoned upscale commercial district, so you could find a clothing store to loot, but you still don't know where the rest of your squad is, the Squats remain a lost civilization, you were supposed to scout for enemies farther down the spire, and the temptation to dance is still strong.
Your soul has fallen to the vilest affliction ever put forth by the dark gods, a corruption that has destroyed better men than you: DANCE FEVER! You dance for so long, and with such vigor, that your whole body is consumed by pain. It is a good pain. As you think this, you crumple to the floor... What do you do now?:
a) Succumb to sensation and cede your soul to the seduction of Slaanesh.
b) Be rescued by a handsome space marine.
c) Be rescued by a beautiful battle sister.
d) MENTAL BATTLE!
e) Check your inventory.
No, wait, what am I doing? You have no power over me! You... have... no... gah, feet, why you no listen? Help! Someone gorgeous, save me! Preferably someone my swarthy good looks and I actually have a chance with!
(( So that's c), basically. {= ) ))
Through the haze of abject agony, you hear a voice: On your feet, Guardsman! There are heretics to slay!
You open your eyes to see a figure clad in Sorotias power armor so shiny you can see your face (or, at least your re-breather and goggles) in it, who helps you to your feet. This Battle Sister, who carries herself with the intense, manic, energy common to those who fight for the Ecclesiarchy, turns looks you in the eyes and asks: "Where's the rest of your squad? I thought you were under orders to patrol in groups."
We were, I explain, but the buggers all waltzed off thataway, and then this crazy dancing thing got me, too, and I have no idea where they are or what's going on here. But I feel a bit better now that you're here, Sister.
(( I dunno how much you want us RPing this, and I can't pretend I know how people actually talk in M41/42, so... ^_^; ~Neshomeh ))
"The taint of Chaos has spread far," She says. "We have been getting reports of deranged dancing all across the hive. But our divine Emperor, blessed be his name, seems to have protected you. Perhaps your faith is greater than that of your fellows. I ask you to stay with me, as the powers of Chaos may not have left you. Now, let us purge your corrupted comrades." She leads you in the direction you indicated, and soon you come across a circle of opulently-dress civilians dancing in the hallway. They turn, and, their feet still moving frantically, aim a motley assortment of weapons at you. What do you do?
(Post Script: Your roleplaying was fine.)
Actually, duck and fire. At their feet. Everyone knows that the feet and legs are the weak spot of any dancing fiend.
You have always been an Emperor-fearing man, and are glad to have the opportunity to fight traitorous scum. Their horrific dancing impedes their aim, and your shots knock many of them of balance. The Battle Sister's bolter makes quick work of the rest, and soon your enemies have been reduced to thin red paste, though you only have 20 shots left in your lascarbine's power cell. After the heretics have fallen, the Battle Sister turns to you and says: "You fought well, I think my estimation of your faith was correct. But I have not properly introduced myself. I am sister Olivia, of the Order of the Argent Shroud. Who might you be?"
What? Who? Something? Sorry, I was distracted by the sister. Ummm...
Let's go with John. That's totally my name. And my last name is... Egbert? No. Stalvern? No. Doe? Probably not.
Ooh! It's Stuart. There we go. John Stuart. Totally a normal name for a guardsman.
Siegfried Cortez, as noted in the OP. Are we lying? Did Chaos get us after all?
~Neshomeh badly wants to quote Candide here. "I'm neither pure, nor wise, nor good... but I do the best I know."
I missed that. Durr. I don't know how to fix!
I'm pretty sure Chaos doesn't let go just because you try to ignore it.
hS of the Unspeakable Name
The powers of Chaos take hold of you once more, and you start gibbering incoherently. Even a battle sister of the Order of the Argent Shroud, known for its mercy, will not hesitate to execute someone obviously possessed by Chaos. As much as it pains me to say this, she says a prayer for your soul, lifts her visor, kisses you gently on the forehead, and administers the Emperor's mercy with a single bolt to the chest. Such is the fate of a traitor. Que end credits music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQTCS6aWRSc
Siegfried Cortez was played by Huinesoron, Thoth, and Neshomeh
Everything else was done by 61516
Warhammer 40,000 quest will return after this commercial break:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wfdSx1YX_3w