To the darkness I bring fire. To the ignorant I bring faith. Those who welcome these gifts may live, but I will visit naught but death and eternal damnation on those who refuse them.
It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day so that he may never truly die.
Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few.
But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat to humanity from aliens, heretics, mutants -- and far, far worse. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.
983.M41, Khappal System, Ultima Segmentum
A space hulk is a massive conglomeration of spaceborne trash, centuries and millennia old ships and junk gathered together in a tangled mess of parts the size of a small continent. They drift through the warp endlessly until they find their final resting place inevitably, whether it be to be ripped apart by Imperial weapons or to merely pulverize itself against a moon. More often than not, these hulks become homes to swarms of alien and demonic scum, and their passage often heralds doom for any nearby inhabited worlds. More importantly, a space hulk may contain technology that has been lost to the Imperium for thousands of years, technology that it is imperative be recovered if possible.
To that end, whenever possible these Space Hulks are boarded by the finest warriors that live, the Emperor's Space Marines, with orders to fight their way through the massive structure and drive out whatever taint might lie within with the Emperor's Sword and the Emperor's Fury.
One such Space Hulk is the Harbinger of Putrefaction that now lies on the outer edges of the Khappal system, guarded by a pair of Imperial cruisers. Segmentum Command has requested that this Space Hulk be secured at any cost. To that end, the Ordo Xenos have called upon their sword, the elite Deathwatch Marines.
Taken from the greatest and most skilled of all Space Marines from all loyal chapters, the Deathwatch is the Emperor's greatest weapon against the taint of Xeno filth. Now a transport bearing a squad of these elite warriors is en route to begin boarding the Harbinger of Putrefaction.
Okay, this is a Warhammer 40K RP. Now, I could go into great detail about the weapons, the equipment and whatnot, but I'd inevitably miss something, so here you go. Warhammer 40K Lexicanum [http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Deathwatch#.UBZlhKC8pJA] That's a wiki containing the data you'll need on just about every aspect of 40K. Anything you're not sure of, just drop me a PM and I'll see what I can do.
Now, this RP is going to be a bit different than what a lot of you are probably used to. You know how you're generally not supposed to play a mega superbadass and trenchcoating is frowned upon and whatnot? Well, forget all that. This is an RP about badasses. Every single player character is a nigh-invincible god of war with centuries of battle experience against all manner of fiends from the alien to the demonic.
Nor is this going to be a deep RP with a complex, riveting story. While there is a plot and I do expect roleplaying, this is mostly intended to be a fun, light RP about asskicking aliens and demons and monsters, not a serious contemplation of the nature of the universe of Warhammer 40K. While I don't want clowns, black comedy and finding a warped sense of humor in the nightmares is allowed and encouraged. Likewise, I'd prefer to avoid having eight grizzled growling badasses. You're all going to be badasses, but mix it up a bit.
Reading the character sheet, you may note that I left off Gender. That is not a mistake. There are no Space Marine females. It's the way things are, I'm afraid. This is going to be sausage and ichor.
I can't think of anything else, so let's have some fun.
Now, this RP is going to be a bit different than what a lot of you are probably used to. You know how you're generally not supposed to play a mega superbadass and trenchcoating is frowned upon and whatnot? Well, forget all that. This is an RP about badasses. Every single player character is a nigh-invincible god of war with centuries of battle experience against all manner of fiends from the alien to the demonic.
Nor is this going to be a deep RP with a complex, riveting story. While there is a plot and I do expect roleplaying, this is mostly intended to be a fun, light RP about asskicking aliens and demons and monsters, not a serious contemplation of the nature of the universe of Warhammer 40K. While I don't want clowns, black comedy and finding a warped sense of humor in the nightmares is allowed and encouraged. Likewise, I'd prefer to avoid having eight grizzled growling badasses. You're all going to be badasses, but mix it up a bit.
Reading the character sheet, you may note that I left off Gender. That is not a mistake. There are no Space Marine females. It's the way things are, I'm afraid. This is going to be sausage and ichor.
I can't think of anything else, so let's have some fun.
Name: In a lot of the fluff and games, Space Marines have Romanesque or Greekish names, but don't be afraid to go off that course and do something. I'd prefer something that sticks out to something realistic.
Age: Note that for every century your character is alive, he gets rewarded by some guy putting a stud through his skull. However, not all chapters do this so you're free to ignore that part.
Squad Role: Remove this if you don't want your character in the running to play the Champion [http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Deathwatch_Champion#.UBZnvaC8pJA], Forge Master [http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Deathwatch_Forge_Master#.UBZnvqC8pJA], Chaplain [http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Deathwatch_Chaplain#.UBZnyaC8pJA], or Epistolary [http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Deathwatch_Epistolary#.UBcIPKC8pJA]
Chapter: Not really important, but it does matter for your shoulderpad. If your character is a Black Shield, say so here.
Wargear: Armor, weapons, and any other equipment they might have. Go nuts here, there's just about nothing I won't accept here. However, I do kind of frown upon Xenos or Demon gear without a -very- good explanation in backstory, and before picking something like a Lascannon or Heavy Bolter remember that a Space Hulk has a lot of tight quarters, so you might be sidelined. You're free to choose between Terminator and standard armor as well. I'd prefer you all to have at least one weapon that is special and epic, your character's personalized, signature weapon that even after he's died a glorious death in the Emperor's name, his memory will live on this weapon every time it is used to smite the Emperor's foes. One thing I have to say a flat no to is being a Dreadnought, I'm afraid. Maybe next time.
Appearance: Since you're all almost certainly wearing helmets, if you described your armor in Wargear, this is optional. Remember that while the Deathwatch wear black armor, they tend to wear various accoutrements over it - prayer seals, skulls, that kind of thing. You can describe your guy without the armor if you really want to (forced if your guy is one of those that doesn't wear a helmet for some reason).
Skills: Your character is a near-peerless warrior. What else can he do? (That might be useful, don't care about his crocheting)
History: Any warrior of the Astartes is almost guaranteed to be a legendary hero by most standards. As your characters are almost certainly ludicrously experienced, I don't expect you to show me their entire life story, and I'll be honest, I could care less about where they were born and what their childhood was like. What I want here more or less is their iconic moment, when they showed themselves to be a badass among badasses. Also include a bit (doesn't have to be long) about them being inducted into Deathwatch and becoming First Company.
Age: Note that for every century your character is alive, he gets rewarded by some guy putting a stud through his skull. However, not all chapters do this so you're free to ignore that part.
Squad Role: Remove this if you don't want your character in the running to play the Champion [http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Deathwatch_Champion#.UBZnvaC8pJA], Forge Master [http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Deathwatch_Forge_Master#.UBZnvqC8pJA], Chaplain [http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Deathwatch_Chaplain#.UBZnyaC8pJA], or Epistolary [http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Deathwatch_Epistolary#.UBcIPKC8pJA]
Chapter: Not really important, but it does matter for your shoulderpad. If your character is a Black Shield, say so here.
Wargear: Armor, weapons, and any other equipment they might have. Go nuts here, there's just about nothing I won't accept here. However, I do kind of frown upon Xenos or Demon gear without a -very- good explanation in backstory, and before picking something like a Lascannon or Heavy Bolter remember that a Space Hulk has a lot of tight quarters, so you might be sidelined. You're free to choose between Terminator and standard armor as well. I'd prefer you all to have at least one weapon that is special and epic, your character's personalized, signature weapon that even after he's died a glorious death in the Emperor's name, his memory will live on this weapon every time it is used to smite the Emperor's foes. One thing I have to say a flat no to is being a Dreadnought, I'm afraid. Maybe next time.
Appearance: Since you're all almost certainly wearing helmets, if you described your armor in Wargear, this is optional. Remember that while the Deathwatch wear black armor, they tend to wear various accoutrements over it - prayer seals, skulls, that kind of thing. You can describe your guy without the armor if you really want to (forced if your guy is one of those that doesn't wear a helmet for some reason).
Skills: Your character is a near-peerless warrior. What else can he do? (That might be useful, don't care about his crocheting)
History: Any warrior of the Astartes is almost guaranteed to be a legendary hero by most standards. As your characters are almost certainly ludicrously experienced, I don't expect you to show me their entire life story, and I'll be honest, I could care less about where they were born and what their childhood was like. What I want here more or less is their iconic moment, when they showed themselves to be a badass among badasses. Also include a bit (doesn't have to be long) about them being inducted into Deathwatch and becoming First Company.
Name: Malchus
Age: 435
Squad Role: Squad Leader
Chapter: Salamanders
Wargear: In his right hand, Malchus carries Calthian's Inferno, a heavy flamer personally crafted by Magos Calthian Vael during the Battle of MacRagge, intended to be the personal weapon of Marneus Calgar during the war. Unfortunately, before the shipment carrying the weapon could arrive, Behemoth was defeated and scattered through the galaxy. Calthian's Inferno passed through Calgar's hands and became a weapon of the Ultramarines First Company, being used in numerous battles until the Marine who currently wielded it took a tour with the Deathwatch, unfortunately meeting his death at the hands of a Necron force. The Flamer passed into the Deathwatch's armories, and was personally selected for this mission by Malchus. The weapon is tighter and more focused than a typical heavy flamer, delivering a concentrated stream of promethium that can melt through the toughest chitin. This weapon rides the line between Flamer and Melta. It is exquisitely functional, lacking any kind of ornament or decoration, only a single inscription along the barrel - "In the name of the Emperor, let these flames consume the Xeno and let their screams be as a hymn to the Emperor's Glory."
In his left hand, Malchus wears his favored blade, a chainfist made for his personal use for a battle some century ago fighting against Chaos Raiders plaguing the Kax Sector, ideal for boarding efforts. The chain is longer and more pronounced than a typical chainfist, being closer in size to a chainsword than a bayonet, and is suitably more devastating. Malchus uses it like an extension of his own arm, although while precise he is still somewhat sluggish with it. Even so, any strike with it will slay nearly anything smaller than a Carnifex. Etched onto the back of the fist in letters large enough for all to read is 'Into the fires of battle, unto the anvil of war!', the ancient war-cry of the Salamanders.
For this battle, Malchus armors himself with Tactical Dreadnought Armor, the much-feared Terminator Armor. As per Deathwatch requirements, much of the armor is painted black with the exception of the right arm and shoulder. The right shoulder is green-gray, and bears the Dragon symbol of the Salamanders Chapter, and the remainder of that arm is a dull silvery unpainted gray. The rest of the armor is pure black, the left shoulder bearing the symbol of the Deathwatch. While at first glance the armor appears almost undecorated, close inspection shows that it has been carefully marked with hundreds of prayers, liturgies, and legends of the many heroes of the Imperium. The writing is too small and too dark to be read, but merely feeling the faint touch of the prayer-carvings on the neck of the armor is a reminder of the Emperor's hand on the wearer. He keeps the helmet on, favoring protection over the dubious display of courage that leaving your head bare seems to be.
Skills: Besides specializing in close-quarters devastation, Malchus is something of a warrior-scholar, determined to know everything about his enemies to know better how to kill them. In battle, he is constantly studying his foe, learning how better to kill them, and when he is not in battle he is contemplating them and absorbing what data he can from dataslates and legends.
History: The story of Malchus is a series of desperate battles and remarkable victories, beginning with his days as a scout four hundred years ago. He and his squad were, along with Salamanders Fifth Company deployed to the world of Chakhal, an agri-world embroiled in what seemed to be a hopeless war against a Waaagh! The planetary defense forces and Imperial Guard had been driven back across much of the world in the two year long conflict and now held only a number of fortresses in the polar region of the world and a pair of heavily fortified cities along the equator. The arrival of the Salamanders was the beginning of the turn of the tide.
For his part, Malchus and his squad were sent into the heart of the Ork infestation to eliminate nobs and cripple the Ork ability to respond to the Salamanders' arrival. For some time their efforts went well, their hit and fade strikes slowing the Ork advance, destroying fuel depots and eliminating key lieutenants. Until one fateful day when while scouting out their next attack, they discovered that the leader of the Waaagh, Warboss Gagletz, was present, along with his elite bodyguard units. Too heavily protected to be taken out with their usual strategy.
For Malchus, the decision was clear - they were Space Marines, the Adeptus Astartes, the Emperor's Angels of Death. If they shied away from the brutal fight now, what would happen when it was a truly dire situation? He urged an attack, and persuaded the other scouts that killing Gagletz was imperative. A plan was swiftly devised and executed.
The battle was glorious. Despite the scouts not being true Space Marines yet, not armored in the mighty powered armor, they fought with the fury of the Emperor, the Orks dying by the dozens, each bark of a bolter or roar of a chainblade the herald of an Ork's death. Malchus lead the charge, his blade and armor soaked in Ork blood. Within two minutes, they had reached Gagletz's command post, the Ork stepping out of it raising his massive chainaxe for battle. Instead, he was struck in the face with a Krak grenade coated in adhesive that after detonating reduced much of his head to little more than a grotesque work of art.
But Malchus' hope that Gagletz's death would immediately throw the Orks into disarray was dashed, the Orks only fought them harder, and one by one his squad fell as they ran for their exit, only Malchus and one other, scout Varien survived, and Varien was viciously wounded. Against all odds, Malchus had managed to escape without anything more serious than trivial scrapes and scratches. Over a period of weeks they managed to escape Ork territory and return to Salamander command to report.
Since the death of Gagletz, the Ork offensive had faltered and then completely collapsed as the Waaagh splintered into a half dozen separate forces all fighting amongst themselves, slowly crumbling before the Salamander advance. Despite Malchus' grief and guilt over the death of his squad, he was reassured by Brother-Captain Agnirus that he had made the correct decision, and that his squad had died as heroes.
This began what seemed to be a career of such acts - bold strikes that leave much of his allies dead, but leave Malchus seemingly untouched and deliver horrific blows to the enemy, against the Tyranids on Acherean, against the Hrud on Chvex, the forces of Chaos during the Hyalmir March in 901M41. Again and again he delivered these blows and again and again he emerged nearly unscathed, only seeming to take injuries when he behaved in more cautious, measured ways. As he grew older and wiser, his strikes grew more and more bold, more and more devastating, and more and more costly. Malchus is one of the greatest warriors the Salamanders have ever had and his courage has brought them many great victories.
But the costs are getting to be too high.
Malchus, aware of this, volunteered for a vigil with the Deathwatch, serving for thirty years before returning to the Salamanders. However, his time with the Deathwatch was such a strange yet rewarding experience that he soon volunteered for it once again. He is now twenty-six years into his second Vigil with the Deathwatch and has become a sergeant of the elite Deathwatch First Company, leading an elite Kill-team of these fabled warriors into battle against the vile forces of the Xeno.
Age: 435
Squad Role: Squad Leader
Chapter: Salamanders
Wargear: In his right hand, Malchus carries Calthian's Inferno, a heavy flamer personally crafted by Magos Calthian Vael during the Battle of MacRagge, intended to be the personal weapon of Marneus Calgar during the war. Unfortunately, before the shipment carrying the weapon could arrive, Behemoth was defeated and scattered through the galaxy. Calthian's Inferno passed through Calgar's hands and became a weapon of the Ultramarines First Company, being used in numerous battles until the Marine who currently wielded it took a tour with the Deathwatch, unfortunately meeting his death at the hands of a Necron force. The Flamer passed into the Deathwatch's armories, and was personally selected for this mission by Malchus. The weapon is tighter and more focused than a typical heavy flamer, delivering a concentrated stream of promethium that can melt through the toughest chitin. This weapon rides the line between Flamer and Melta. It is exquisitely functional, lacking any kind of ornament or decoration, only a single inscription along the barrel - "In the name of the Emperor, let these flames consume the Xeno and let their screams be as a hymn to the Emperor's Glory."
In his left hand, Malchus wears his favored blade, a chainfist made for his personal use for a battle some century ago fighting against Chaos Raiders plaguing the Kax Sector, ideal for boarding efforts. The chain is longer and more pronounced than a typical chainfist, being closer in size to a chainsword than a bayonet, and is suitably more devastating. Malchus uses it like an extension of his own arm, although while precise he is still somewhat sluggish with it. Even so, any strike with it will slay nearly anything smaller than a Carnifex. Etched onto the back of the fist in letters large enough for all to read is 'Into the fires of battle, unto the anvil of war!', the ancient war-cry of the Salamanders.
For this battle, Malchus armors himself with Tactical Dreadnought Armor, the much-feared Terminator Armor. As per Deathwatch requirements, much of the armor is painted black with the exception of the right arm and shoulder. The right shoulder is green-gray, and bears the Dragon symbol of the Salamanders Chapter, and the remainder of that arm is a dull silvery unpainted gray. The rest of the armor is pure black, the left shoulder bearing the symbol of the Deathwatch. While at first glance the armor appears almost undecorated, close inspection shows that it has been carefully marked with hundreds of prayers, liturgies, and legends of the many heroes of the Imperium. The writing is too small and too dark to be read, but merely feeling the faint touch of the prayer-carvings on the neck of the armor is a reminder of the Emperor's hand on the wearer. He keeps the helmet on, favoring protection over the dubious display of courage that leaving your head bare seems to be.
Skills: Besides specializing in close-quarters devastation, Malchus is something of a warrior-scholar, determined to know everything about his enemies to know better how to kill them. In battle, he is constantly studying his foe, learning how better to kill them, and when he is not in battle he is contemplating them and absorbing what data he can from dataslates and legends.
History: The story of Malchus is a series of desperate battles and remarkable victories, beginning with his days as a scout four hundred years ago. He and his squad were, along with Salamanders Fifth Company deployed to the world of Chakhal, an agri-world embroiled in what seemed to be a hopeless war against a Waaagh! The planetary defense forces and Imperial Guard had been driven back across much of the world in the two year long conflict and now held only a number of fortresses in the polar region of the world and a pair of heavily fortified cities along the equator. The arrival of the Salamanders was the beginning of the turn of the tide.
For his part, Malchus and his squad were sent into the heart of the Ork infestation to eliminate nobs and cripple the Ork ability to respond to the Salamanders' arrival. For some time their efforts went well, their hit and fade strikes slowing the Ork advance, destroying fuel depots and eliminating key lieutenants. Until one fateful day when while scouting out their next attack, they discovered that the leader of the Waaagh, Warboss Gagletz, was present, along with his elite bodyguard units. Too heavily protected to be taken out with their usual strategy.
For Malchus, the decision was clear - they were Space Marines, the Adeptus Astartes, the Emperor's Angels of Death. If they shied away from the brutal fight now, what would happen when it was a truly dire situation? He urged an attack, and persuaded the other scouts that killing Gagletz was imperative. A plan was swiftly devised and executed.
The battle was glorious. Despite the scouts not being true Space Marines yet, not armored in the mighty powered armor, they fought with the fury of the Emperor, the Orks dying by the dozens, each bark of a bolter or roar of a chainblade the herald of an Ork's death. Malchus lead the charge, his blade and armor soaked in Ork blood. Within two minutes, they had reached Gagletz's command post, the Ork stepping out of it raising his massive chainaxe for battle. Instead, he was struck in the face with a Krak grenade coated in adhesive that after detonating reduced much of his head to little more than a grotesque work of art.
But Malchus' hope that Gagletz's death would immediately throw the Orks into disarray was dashed, the Orks only fought them harder, and one by one his squad fell as they ran for their exit, only Malchus and one other, scout Varien survived, and Varien was viciously wounded. Against all odds, Malchus had managed to escape without anything more serious than trivial scrapes and scratches. Over a period of weeks they managed to escape Ork territory and return to Salamander command to report.
Since the death of Gagletz, the Ork offensive had faltered and then completely collapsed as the Waaagh splintered into a half dozen separate forces all fighting amongst themselves, slowly crumbling before the Salamander advance. Despite Malchus' grief and guilt over the death of his squad, he was reassured by Brother-Captain Agnirus that he had made the correct decision, and that his squad had died as heroes.
This began what seemed to be a career of such acts - bold strikes that leave much of his allies dead, but leave Malchus seemingly untouched and deliver horrific blows to the enemy, against the Tyranids on Acherean, against the Hrud on Chvex, the forces of Chaos during the Hyalmir March in 901M41. Again and again he delivered these blows and again and again he emerged nearly unscathed, only seeming to take injuries when he behaved in more cautious, measured ways. As he grew older and wiser, his strikes grew more and more bold, more and more devastating, and more and more costly. Malchus is one of the greatest warriors the Salamanders have ever had and his courage has brought them many great victories.
But the costs are getting to be too high.
Malchus, aware of this, volunteered for a vigil with the Deathwatch, serving for thirty years before returning to the Salamanders. However, his time with the Deathwatch was such a strange yet rewarding experience that he soon volunteered for it once again. He is now twenty-six years into his second Vigil with the Deathwatch and has become a sergeant of the elite Deathwatch First Company, leading an elite Kill-team of these fabled warriors into battle against the vile forces of the Xeno.
