Dark Heresy - Wisdom is the beginning of fear.

[Kelne]

"Trust not the words of the damned, for they lie as men breathe," Cryvus said, "Vent the hold."

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis was half-heartedly (or possibly just half-assedly; it was questionable whether he had a heart in the emotional sense) observing the conversation while he had been adjusting the sights on his guns...

...Until it came time for the question of whether or not orders would be given, at which point, he turned, sandwiching his rifle between his knees pointing upward, while getting out a piece of paper and a pen--the former of which in turn he pinned to the wall with the lower part of his hand as he wrote on it, trying to focus on that act and the rifle maintenance at the same time...

When done, he thrust the sheet in the direction of the Tech-Priest present...

'Things that should not be exist in there. Vent them all into the Void.'

[Jak Snide]

Phrix, heeding the words of the two voidborn, uttered a mechanical noise from his vox. One of the servitors, responding to the audio command, raised an augmented arm and activated several runes. Then apparition started screaming, the sound a frightening reminder of the psychic wails that had assaulted the minds of the acolytes in the holds. Her arms flailed about for a few seconds before they moved to grasp at her throat, the specter wheezing and choking as if she were suffocating. Then the act fell and she began laughing.

"Ah, it was worth a try. You'll be happy to know your mutants are gone, though. Well, most of them. As you said, the deal has changed. I'll be keeping a few for my own purposes, seeing as good, honest men are so hard to find these days. Not that I couldn't make more. Might as well go do that now."

The apparition vanished with a parting smirk, the bridge now silent save for the humming of machines and the groan of the captain as he recovered his senses.

[Christian]

Mithras had gone silent as the apparition had appeared. His psyche was not currently in the mood for witchcraft on top of mutations and possible Xeno-threat, so he had merely cautiously observed... that and the fact that he'd spent much of his frustration already made him remain quiet...

But as the mutants were purged from the hold and the apparation disappeared, his thoughts began to surface once more.

"Captain..." he grumbled, looking at the man in the chair, his voice stripped of all but a dull, threatening rumble, "Tell us about this deal."

[Jak Snide]

Norosgov leaned forward, cradling his head, the tone of his voice one of resignation. "You heard her. She obtains passage to Iocanthos and in return the mutants in the hold were to be removed. I presumed the wytch would simply kill them or, more likely, weaken them enough for us to remove them ourselves. She came aboard months ago, journeyed down to the holds and was never heard from again. I assumed she'd failed. I was a fool."

"Captain," Phrix intoned, "security reports a riot has broken out in the primary crew bay. They say that-" He paused, listening to the mechanical chatter of the nearby machines. "Contact has been lost. I received some...anomalous transmissions before the machine spirit failed. Given recent events-"

The captain sighed, holding up a hand to silence the tech-priest as he looked to the acolytes. "Go. Deal with this. Please. We can resolve other matters after the ship is safe."

[Kelne]

Cryvus' anger had coalesced into a blazing star that demanded swift, immediate justice. But there was no time. Though every fibre of his being screamed at him to deal with the wretched creature before him immediately, one thing was abundantly clear. The ship came first. Norosgov might have forgotten this in his fervour to be rid of the mutants, but Cryvus had not.

"Very well. But understand this, mister Norosgov. Your days of command are over." His voice was flat with contempt, with not a shred of respect for the position. Indeed, he had ceased referring to Norosgov - or even thinking of him - as captain.

"We shall require a secure vox frequency for the bridge, and I want an immediate lockdown. The crew are to arm themselves and form into defense teams." The crew should have been prepared to repel boarders as part of situation gamma, but Cryvus was not particularly inclined to believe it had been done. Another sin to be laid at Norosgov's door.

"We shall rendezvous with any available reinforcements en route. In the event of our failure, I expect the reactors to be overloaded without delay. This ship will not fall into enemy hands." This last was directed at Tech-Priest Phrix, as the person best able to carry out his instructions. Better the ship be destroyed than fall into damnation.

Pausing only to receive the required frequency, Cryvus made for the door. How much good his orders would do was up for debate. The Brazen Sky was no warship, to have sections isolated from one another, and her crew were not soldiers. Still, what he could do here he had. Now all that remained was to destroy the wych or die in the attempt.

[Jak Snide]

Cryvus received his frequency from Phrix before the tech-priest turned away to begin chattering to the servitors again, hopefully carrying out the old acolyte's instructions. Norosgov had fallen back into his cradle, his eyes glazing over. Both he and Crisis just familiar enough with the use of mind-impulse technology to realise the captain was submerging his will into the machine spirit of the entire ship.

Sebek cowered behind the acolytes, having remained silent throughout the exchange of words, and jumped slightly when they turned to him expecting to be led to the primary crew bay. The man complied, ushering them into the elevator and taking them down into the body of the Brazen Sky once again.

The journey through the ship was different from before. Where there had been sounds of commotion there was only silence, save for the occasional muffled yell from behind a sealed bulkhead. Lockdown had been achieved and, while the Brazen Sky was indeed no warship, it's security measures seemed sufficient in preventing it's inhabitants from roaming. Cryvus had to occasionally vox the bridge and ask (with Sebek's aid) for a bulkhead to be opened, but they otherwise made swift progress. As they drew closer to their destination a realisation came over the acolytes: they were heading back to the crew bay where they'd been living since they came aboard. Minutes later they were at the entrance to the compartment, a large slab of metal interposed itself between them and the room beyond. All they needed to do was vox the bridge and the way would be opened.

[Christian]

"...Our weapons were in there..."

Mithras commented what most likely everyone had on their minds. The thought of someone else using his equipment had an instantaneous wave of disgust rolling over him, even before he acknowledged that it was most likely going to be used against them.

Thank the Emperor he'd lost his shotgun in the holding bay.

"Most likely they're expecting someone to come and find out what's going on." Mithras was familiar to the idea of this scenario. He'd never once experienced it on the field... but then again, considering what his drill instructor had told them about this particular scenario, he doubted he'd still be alive if he had been.

"There's plenty of different approaches we can take; the most obvious being to chuck a grenade in there..." he scratched his chin slowly, eyes looking for any other way into the hold, "a simultaneous attack from two directions or more could draw their line of fire... Sebek, is there any way for them to perceive what is happening out here through radio or visual? I didn't see any when we came here, but..." he left the question hanging before he continued,

"We are not even sure what's in there, but my bet is either very angry, very scared or equal of both void-dwellers who will shoot at anything they see..."

"We could, ehehehe, always use you as a temporary meatshield..." he nodded to Sebek with a lopsided grin; first perceptions'd say he was trying to make a bad joke, but closer inspection showed the man was shaking slightly. This had been a long day. "Try to find anything to set up as a barrier of sort in front of the door. We don't want to get into an unnecessary gunfight by starting it, but we also want cover in case they don't share the sentiment. Anything that can cover a kneeling man is good, a crouching man is better..." he thought for a moment before his face turned sour, "...and we must vox the captain..."

[Capntastic]

Mik had been pretty stoic through all this, though some of the noises caused a bit of fluctuation in his eyebrows. He seemed to get the gist of the situation. Mithras's comment, though, finally got him to speak up.

"S'why I kept my gear with me. S'why I always keep my gear with me. An' yeah, I got grenades and burn-bottles."

He didn't seem to keen to offer his own strategic advice, as these cramped spaces alone made him unsure of his footing. But, of course, he had to say something.

"Too bad we ain't got room for a Trucknichal in here. That's the sort of movin' firepower we'd need for a huge group. Hell, I bet on'na them big guns'd chew through that one big freak's hide. Right on down to the gristle."

[Jak Snide]

Sebek, having already moved away from the sealed bulkhead, took an additional step back from the acolytes at the suggestion of being used as cover.

"This is the sole entrance to the crew bay I'm afraid. Whatever is in there shouldn't be able to do hear us." The nervousness in his voice indicated that he thought otherwise. They weren't just dealing with humans, after all. "I can vox the Captain when you're ready to enter, honoured travellers."

[Kelne]

"Alas for the lack of blessed promethium," Cryvus said, leveling his pistol at a point somewhere beyond the door, "The time for killing is upon us."

If that wasn't an order to raise the door, it was difficult to say what would be.

[Jak Snide]

Sebek gave Cryvus an odd look before activating his vox. It was a more slender machine than the ones the acolytes carried and seemed to be lacking the long antenna as well.

"We are outside the primary crew bay, most honourable captain, and request the way be opened." He shuffled uncomfortably for a moment before the blast door withdrew into the ceiling, revealing the room beyond. Or what they could see of it, at least. The lights were out, restricting their vision to a few meters in front of them. They could make out a few of the cots and bedrolls the crew they'd shared the compartment with slept in but nothing else. There were no bodies strewn about, though some of the cots had been overturned or knocked around. It was eerily silent. Sebek edged back down the tunnel, muttering a prayer underneath his breath.

(Here's the map of the crew bay. We're working with 1x1 meter squares again now and are still under the effects of low gravity so everyone can move 5 squares as a half-action move (6 for Crisis). Vision is limited to 10m, the grey squares concealing whatever lies within them. The grey rectangles are the somewhat undersized cots. Finally everyone should PM me and tell me which bits of gear they left in by their cots which, for those who might feel compelled to recover them, are around AZ-4. We're not working on combat time, but try not to do too much at once. Oh, and check your PMs for any insights your character might have.)

[Christian]

Mits had his laspistol raised as the doors slid open. He peered inside carefully, trying to obscure himself by the corner as he scanned the room for potential threats. He'd left his Lasgun in there... he'd be damned if he'd let those bastards use it against him... Then again, trying to go for it would trigger a trap... if there was anything waiting for them...

"Try to use the cots to your advantage." he muttered as he begun to slowly move through the door, "stay low and don't all look in the same direction."

He didn't really have much more to say, when it came to sneaking around he was good, but he didn't have any doubts about the abilities of the others... the memories of the cargoholds were still fresh in his mind.

"I'm going to slowly move towards our cots, I want to get my lasgun if it's still there..." he whispered, his lips barely moving as he spoke.

((Mits is sneaking towards the bunks used by the Acolytes unless he's stopped by someone else))

[Capntastic]

Mik stepped forth cautiously, his shotgun just a twitch away from exhaling lead. He crept towards the cots, hoping his crew would have the good sense to cover him. Of course, unless another one of those giant scaley beasties leapt out at him, he might fare alright solo. But this isn't the situation where chances can be taken lightly.

(Mik's slinking to 10 I)

[Kelne]

"Seal the door behind us," Cryvus said, bringing out and activating the glowlamp from the kit he'd been issued so long ago, "Nobody leaves this room until we give the word." That said, he entered the crew quarters, shining his light into dark places.

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis stepped back shortly, eyes widening behind the gas mask that covered his face...before reloading his autocarbine. There was nothing natural about this...all he knew was that it could very well be -them-...or possibly someone else...

...if it was -them-, then he was screwed.

But while he would be comfortable in the darkness normally...if it was -them-, then he would be at a clear disadvantage...if it was anything that could see well in the dark, he would be at a clear disadvantage...

...bracing the autocarbine close to himself, holding it in his gloved hand, he quickly moved out to behind cover, keeping as much of an eye and an ear out as he could while his mind remained preoccupied with the thoughts of what could be there, and what was not perfect about his guns, all while activating his glowglobe that was given to him...

...if only his rifle was with him. If only his hand-cannon was with him... Damn lasweaponry.


[Moving quickly but carefully to I8, ready to drop or take cover at a moment's notice]

[Jak Snide]

Cryvus tinkered with his chem-lamp for a moment, focusing the light it emitted into a beam that lanced out into the darkness ahead of him. The others crept into the room around him, eyes scanning left and right. They'd barely taken a few steps before they saw them. They were crouched behind the cots, left knee placed against the ground and hands gripping their cover, each body ready to launch itself up and over. Most were twisted forms, bearing faces of animals, elongated limbs or other blasphemous deformities. Two, however, were recognisable to Mithras. Meta and Ramz stared at him through the darkness, faces blank and covered with gashes.

Sebek, responding to Cryvus' command, started to vox the bridge.

(Map updated. Cryvus's chem-lamp projects a beam of light 15m long which he can direct within in the direction he's looking each turn. He can also try to sweep it across an area and make a Perception check to spot anything it crosses. Not-Meta is at P-7 and Not-Ramz is at Q-9, in case that makes any different to what Mithras does. We are now in combat, so orders please gentlemen)

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis stood back as he saw this--the place was already crawling with mutants...better than -those-, but definitely not anything pleasant...he wanted them gone...he wanted them away...as soon as anything came close enough for a clear shot, he figured, it would be dead. End of Story...

And so he braced himself, aiming his autocarbine at the left bunch, gritting his teeth, muscles tense, and eyes wide with madness hidden behind his mask...

[Overwatch facing the group of mutants on the upper side of the map if possible. Will fire if enemies are unobstructed--that includes allies]

[Christian]

Mithras froze in his slow steps like a deer caught in headlights of a speeding car.

For a frantic few milliseconds he felt a wash of relief at the sight of the two before memory caught up with conscience; they were dead. They had died. Yet now they moved...

Without a word he once more drew off the velcro'd strap shielding his grenades, unhinged a frag grenade, weighted it in his hand (and set the timer to explode roughly when it landed, he certainly didn't want to give the beasts time to react) before he chucked it towards the cowering bodies. Halfway into the air he bellowed "GRENADE LEFT! DOWN!" and fell flat to the floor, arms scrambling to reach his holster and laspistol.

He felt regret, a painful grin on his face, but the Emperor willed this. And he was the tool that did its duty. He was thankful the helmet he wore provided some deafening of sounds...



[[Mits is throwing a Frag-grenade at O-7 and then going prone whilst, if possible, he tries to get his laspistol ready.]]

[Kelne]

Another person, at this point, would be chanting the Litanies of Hate. Cryvus was reciting poetry.

"Once upon a battlefield dreary, where I cowered, spent and bleary,
Within an Imperial bunker, darkly stained with dust and gore -
As I cowered, nearly shuttering, suddenly there came a sputtering
As some weapon quickly stuttering - firing at my bunker door.
'Tis some bolter', I murmured, 'firing at my bunker door -
Only this and nothing more.'"

As he recited the verses, he swept the beam of his glowlamp in a generally southerly arc, taking aim at one of the living dead and opening fire.

(Aim and fire with the laspistol, at the zombie in square N20. Red dot laser sight is also in use.)

[Capntastic]

"You lot! Get down on the ground or I'll fill you full o' holes!" roared Mik.

And in the split second of time of his order leaving his mouth and his audience not responding in a proper fashion, Mik decided he'd just have to follow through with the threat.

(Single shot to N5)

[Jak Snide]

Cryvus' poetry was punctuated by the sharp crack of las fire, his aim true and the bolt of energy burning it's way through his target's chest before it could move. Mithras hurled his grenade then dropped to the deck, drawing his laspistol as he did. It went wide, landing next to what was once Ramz and detonating. Both he and the other ex-watchman were reduced to nothing more than a wet paste, shredded by the shrapnel and pulped by the force of the explosion. Several of the cots were also caught in the blast, sending fragments of shredded wood flying through the air. A few lodged themselves in the nearby mutants, though to no apparent affect as the things launched themselves through the air a moment later, their motions as identical as always. Crisis aimed upwards and fired, swinging the barrel of his weapon across to try and catch all three in the burst. The left most one caught a couple of rounds and went limp, impacting against the wall next to him with a wet thud. Another round grazed the middle mutant but failed to put it down. Mikolas snapped off a single shot a moment too late, the buckshot aimed too low, with Xerxes also failing to hit his target. Then they were upon them.

One landed a hair's breadth too short of Mikolas, a pair of stunted arms lashing out to grasp him. The other landed right in front of him, a tentacle-faced abomination, and laid it's hands on him. A sharp swing off his weapon sent it staggering backwards and away, the huge man shunting any terror he felt out of his mind. Xerxes proved less fortunate as one got a hold of him though even worse was Mithras. He'd dropped prone, perhaps expecting to be shot at, only to have one land right on his back. Without thinking he rolled over, lashing out with an elbow and managing to strike the thing on it's rat-like muzzle. It flew backwards, colliding with the thing that had grappled Xerxes and knocking them both down, leaving the trio sprawled out across the deck.

Sebek shrieked and yelled into his vox. A moment later the blast door behind them slammed shut with a tremendous clang. A fit of musical laughter followed in it's wake, the source indiscernible.

(Map updated. Not a good round for shotguns. Mithrass, Xerxes and two of the zombies are prone, as shown by the red arrows next to them. Cryvus didn't spot anything with his sweet of the lamp.)

[Christian]

Mithras had reacted before his body could think out a possible exit-way, but he didn't mind. As soon as the thing that had been on his back fell off and met the sharp end of his elbow, he turned towards it, laspistol still in hand.

"I am the flame of vengeance" he muttered as he aimed the sidearm towards the face of the creature, his last bit of breath exhaling before he pulled the trigger.

He'd be dead before he saw a mutant get the better of him.


((Mits takes half a turn to aim and then firest at the rat-snouted mutant-zombie thing that leapt at him. He's not getting up at the moment))

[Kelne]

"Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And the brightly burning bastions lit the horizion by the score.
Eagerly, on freedom drunker; - vainly had I sought to hunker
In this heavy Imperial bunker - with perhaps a tunnel in the floor -
A safe and empty fortress with perhaps a tiny tunnel in the floor -
Only this and nothing more."

His laspistol swung round to target the still-standing creature to his south. That creature would have to be put down first, lest it latch onto him and feast upon his juicy, delicious brains. And, incidentally, prevent him from aiding the others.

(Another aim and fire)

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis noted the creature that went down, and the other that was injured...but what was here still wasn't dead...

...and there was no guarantee that there weren't more of what -THAT- thing was...or that -they- were there...

...which was reason enough for him to conserve his ammo...what was worse was that he had neither his new handcannon nor his rifle. Both of which would be useful in their own senses--especially the former, if THAT thing was still alive.

...if there were more of...that...he'd have to resort to his two remaining grenades...


As such, he quickly jumped over to the side, and snapped a shot off with one arm at the mutant near his fellow Voidborn acolyte.

[Move to G13, single-shot at the mutant in space F15]

[Capntastic]

Mik did not have poetry or the fire of vengeance flowing through him, no. He had nothing, save for his connection to humanity's past. The grip of his boots against the floor of the hold- a pattern from centuries ago for work in boiler-rooms. His shotgun, an ancient symbol of force, loaded with shells produced only recently, though they too were related to tiny metallic brothers from millenia ago. His hands, a gift of blessed humanity's righteous evolution. And his fell and vicious roar- perhaps something the universe had known even before man.

All of these things had travelled through time and space for Mik to utilize against these freakish beings. And that is why they stood no chance as Mik stood his ground and unleashed the fury.

(Mik's going to unload as many shells as possible into that which stands before him. Semi-auto to I-11)

[Jak Snide]

The crew bay was awash with blood and noise. Cryvus, seemingly as detached as ever, continued to recite as he placed another las-bolt expertly. Mikolas howled in rage, swinging his weapon up and splattering the two mutants near him before they could react. Mithras snapped off a shot from his laspistol, finding the rat-faced thing's gut and ensuring it never rose again. Crisis stepped forward and placed a single shot into the remaining mutant as it tried to rise, sending it tumbling back down again. Xerxes took it's head off just to be sure.

Everything was quiet now. The corpses of their assailants lay strewn around them, the acolytes unscathed.

(Map updated. All visible threats have been put down, and the bay is now silent, save for the constant thrum of the ship itself. Check your PMs.)

[Christian]

For a few seconds Mithras remained on the floor, his movement frozen as he seemed almost to expect something more to happen. Then, with his laspistol still drawn, he rose slowly, head turning to check on everyone. There was a glint of caution in his eyes.

"...Be on your guard, there's still something here..." he muttered as he kicked aside the corpse of the rat-faced mutant.

"Keep your wits together..." truth be told, he had no idea what else they'd be facing, and that troubled him. That thing on the command deck had been a witch... he didn't know how to handle that...

[Capntastic]

Mik glared down at the mess he'd made. Then he began putting more shells into his shotgun.

"You guys with the fancy lights should keep point, maybe."

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis took the time to reload his autocarbine, neglecting to fill the current clip and instead simply throwing a new clip into the weapon, the clicks slightly reassuring to him...

...this could only have been the first wave. There were more, undoubtedly, and he was not yet certain that he could manage this if there were more of -those-...if there were more of those damnable things...

...if only he had his rifle...he had his heavier weapons somewhere in the room. It was just a question of where...

And so, he began to advance along the wall to his left when facing into the room...if nothing else, he could be easier off with having one angle impossible to ambush him from...

[Jak Snide]

Crisis slid his last full clip into place silently, sidestepping and watching the gloom for any signs of movement. Xerxes stood silently, weapon trained on the rear of the hold. Cryvus walked forward, his lamp's beam scouting for any abominations in the darkness as he continued to speak in a strong and steady tone.

"And the mad raving howling of each distant Space Wolf prowling
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before.
So that now, to the beating of my heart, I stood entreating
'Tis some Space Wolf there repeating, firing at my bunker door -
Some common Grey Hunter rapid-firing at my bunker door -
This it is and nothing more.'"

A voice, that musical voice, joined his.

Before your resolve grows stronger; hesitate a moment longer
"Gentlemen," said I, "or lackies, your attention I implore;
The souls of these men were strong - and so they linger on
And your weapons will not harm the many-as-one -
For those who lived as one shall linger on -
Serving me, forever more.'"

Cryvus fell silent as his torchlight found something within the darkness. A multitude of faces gazed vacantly at him, unblemished by the ravages of mutation. The acolytes instead found themselves looking into the eyes of the men, women and children they'd shared their lives with over the past few weeks and a cold fear gripped them. They'd all suspected it might come to this, but being confronted by the raw horror of the situation was far worse than anything they could have imagined. Xerxes, speaking for the first time in hours, muttered a scare few words to his fellows.

"You know what we gotta do."

(Map updated. Check your PMs.)

[Christian]

Mits had just about gathered his wits to implore Cryvus to "keep his damn voice down," but before the words even left his lips the musical voice chimed in.

He grew silent, his left hand reaching for his handaxe as he raised his right, laspistol clenched tightly in his grip.

For a few moments the guardsman remained standing, his eyes giving off a nervous twitch as his hands began to shake slightly.

Were they to...?

"IN HIS NAME!" he suddenly bellowed, as much an attempt to banish his own terror as to raise the morale of his comrades. This was a grim, dark moment for them all. But through His light they would banish the darkness!

Tears began to stream down the man's face as he unleashed his first shot into the masses of people, his hands shaking violently as his grip grew even tighter, drawing droplets of blood from his palms. Yet his tears of grief were equally mingled with those of wrath, fury at whatever monster was doing this to these people.

[Capntastic]

Mik growled and fumbled with his pockets, pulling out a large fluid filled bottle. Then, with a flick of his lighter, he lit the rag and threw the burn bottle towards the mass, while making to hoof it behind some moderate cover behind the cots.

"Get over here you guys, and dig in!"

(Burnbottle thrown towards W-13, as he runs to I-8)

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis' face--if anyone could see that under the mask--went pale as he viewed the abomination...and threw up in his mouth...

it was just like then...just like then...


Only this he could do something about. It wasn't one of THEM...it could go down with enough firepower. He was sure of it. It HAD to be certain...


And so, he quickly dashed forward and took cover behind a practical corner of bunks, only his head and leading arm exposed as he aimed the autocarbine...

[Move to K7, Half-action aim at the amalgamated abomination]

[Jak Snide]

Crisis slid into cover, feeling something dribble down his chin underneath the mask, and took steady aim. His heart sank as he resolved what lay within the gloom.

The faces he'd seen before were part of a horde; a score of the unliving packed tightly together, advancing slowly. What was worse is there was more, all moving closer and closer with every moment. Mithras squeezed off a shot, but the tears in his eyes muddied his aim and the bolt streaked past his target, striking something else within the darkness and illuminating it for the barest of moments before the inky blackness closed around it.

Mikolas fumbled for a burn-bottle and lobbed it as he ran. The volatile projectile veered off target but hit close enough to home; flaming liquid flew as the bottle shattered, igniting most of the horde he targeted. The afflicted fell moments later as the rest moved on. Cryvus took aim and fired, momentarily shocked into silence, and dropped a single target among the dozen or so remaining. The Xerxes opened up, spreading his feet to brace himself as he rattled off a trio of shots. The spreads of buckshot tore through the remaining foes, leaving nothing but a bloody mess.

More stepped out of the darkness to replace the fallen.

(Map updated. Mikolas' flame bomb has given you a bit more illumination this turn, which means you can see three hordes of zombies. The one with the big X through it went down, Mikolas' burn-bottle and Xerxes' shotgun blasts seeming particularly effective. Declare actions, and Crisis can adapt his +10 bonus onto a target of his choice easily enough.)

[Christian]

Mithras cursed as his shot missed, his hand brushing away the momentary tears as he tried to push regret and fear away. Now, in this dark hour, he must remain steadfast, determined...

He unhooked a grenade slowly from his belt, his last remaining frag grenade, and set the timer once more to detonate roughly at the moment of impact, saving perhaps a second.

A silent prayer to the Emperor and then he lobbed it, watching it sail through the air and landing, hopefully, in the closest crowd of the mindless undead.


[[Mits chucks his last remaining frag-grenade towards P-10]]

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis swallowed once again the remainder of what used to be his stomach's contents in his mouth...knowing quite well what was trickling from his mouth. ...were he driven less mad by the current circumstances, he would have been ashamed of such unprofessional behavior on his part...

...it was easily presumable that...whoever...this was, was in the back of the room. Probably near his weaponry, as well. Just to add insult to injury...

Quickly advancing along the flank, he figured that was the easier way around to get to this witch. If she could be killed, then the rest of this would be over quickly...

...spying a mutant trying to be stealthy as he came to a stop behind more cover...a pitiful sight to say the least, Crisis instead focused on the myriad groups...those HAVE to die, and soon...priming another pin, he hoped that the machine spirit would be grateful to him, to say the least...

...if those all died quickly, then so much the better for everyone. Even if they were crippled in number, so much the better, as he threw the grenade, trying to catch as many of the shambling masses in the blast as possible...

[Moving to N3, Throwing a grenade toward S12. Authorizing fate point use in case of either a jam or a throw going wildly enough to harm a teammate]

[Capntastic]

Seeing the vast flames destroy, no, cleanse the monsters didn't soothe Mik so much as urge him to continue his efforts. He darted around and past Crisis, trying to get a better angle on the shambling hordes.

(Run towards M4)

[Jak Snide]

Crisis knew the risks. Even as he primed his grenade the mutant along the North wall charged, accompanied by even more that had been concealed by the darkness. He flung the charge and ducked a pair of grasping claws, narrowly avoiding being dragged down. He glanced sideways just in time to see his throw land right where he'd wanted it to: right in the middle of the swarm.

The explosion tore through the risen crew members. The foremost horde was nearly torn to shreds, the few left staggering forwards. The other two groups lost a few from their front ranks, the ones behind shielded from the shrapnel by the bodies of their friends and families.

The remnants of the nearest swarm closed in on Cryvus, but the old man fell back just before they could get ahold of him. Mithras hauled his own grenade over their heads, the resulting explosion shearing another rank off the two rear swarms. Mikolas moved North swiftly, spotting the risen mutants assaulting Crisis as he did. Xerxes leveled his weapon and fired a single shot, clipping the crew members that had charged Cryvus and putting it down.

More mutants charged out of the darkness, one reaching Xerxes but finding itself repelled by the butt of his shotgun. The remaining crew members staggered forward, stepping over the corpses of the fallen, as a musical voice filled the minds of the acolytes again.

"Most impressive! I hope you have more of those little trinkets, because I'm just getting started here."

(Map updated. Crisis and Xerxes are in melee now. Mikolas has the option to switch to another weapon as part of his last move, which may be wise as the risen dead are closing in. That said there was a huge amount of carnage last round, the two frag grenades doing a tremendous amount of damage between them. Declare actions and check to see if you've gotten a PM.)

[Christian]

Mithras bit his lower lip as he saw the carnage his and Crisis' grenades had caused. Yet there seemed to be no stop to tihs horde... what manner of chaos-spawned devilry did this witch command to control such vast hordes of... of...

He purged the thought from his mind as he aimed his laspistol towards the approaching, shambling undead. His left hand was ready to grasp his axe and his right was pushing the trigger of his weapon.

"Might it perhaps be a good idea to haul ass!?" he yelled angrily. He doubted he needed to point out the reason; they'd never survive this if these things kept coming at them in these numbers.


[Mits fires at the approaching zombies of J12 and moving back towards the doors they came from]