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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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I told people I would post Chapter 3 this weekend, but life and Borderlands happened so that didn't. Anyways, here we have it: the ongoing drama of what happens when you mix one Sister of Battle with one techpriest and way too much alcohol.

Previous thread here:
But I botched the posting order, so it would probably be best to just read the paste bin here:

Oh, and the lovely opening art is brought to you by none other than the wonderful drawfag Muju. Thanks, Muju! Story starts next post in.
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Despite arriving at their destination of Korlov IV a few hours ago, the two orders’ ships had remained in orbit above the planet, the Canoness ordering the Might of Knowledge to stand by for further orders, continuing to keep the Cult Mechanicus in the dark about the operation they still didn’t want anything to do with. Magos Rorkhan had grown so tired of the constant games of misdirection that when the Sororitas shuttle docked with his cruiser and demanded a single and specific Enginseer outfitted with the best supplies he could muster, Rorkhan relented immediately without even bothering to attempt to seek why. He just wanted this whole affair to be over with as quickly and quietly as possible so that he could get back to following up those rumors about a Standard Template Construct. If it only cost him one techpriest to be rid of these overbearing Ecclesiarchy zealots, then he would consider himself truly blessed by the Omnissiah.

Vyrius, on the other hand, was much more invested in his fate. The shuttle ride over to the Adepta Sororitas vessel had been absolutely nerve wracking and the march down the corridors of the interior was that much worse, servo skull puttering after him and box of supplies rattling as he tried to keep up with the towering Soriritas and their long strides. And now as he stood outside the personal chambers of the Sister Superior who had demanded his presence, what few guts he had left were wrenched in terror. This was it. This was how he was going to die. Torn apart by angry battle nuns for transgressions that weren’t entirely his fault in the first place. At least it wouldn’t be orks. Vyrius said a quick prayer to the Machine God for good luck and, taking note of the increasingly angry scowls on the faces of his escorts, Vyrius decided to take his chances with the Superior and sallied forth.
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Vyrius had been expecting some ornate chamber resembling something more akin to a shrine more than an office, but what greeted Vyrius was the exact opposite. Besides the odd paper or dataslate strewn here or there, the room was bare and quaint, with little more than a desk and a bed to it. Much to Vyrius’ dismay, this only served to enhance the menacing visage of Sister Superior Maria. As frightening as the Sisters were to him, their Sister Superior was that much more so. She wore simple, unassuming robes that put Vyrius’ own to shame in their plainness yet he could still sense the strength emanating from behind her modest clothing, a strength displayed openly on her face. Her face, marked with a number of scars from countless battles, the most prominent of which was a particularly nasty number that started just under her right eye and climbed down to the middle of her chin, clipping a nostril and her lips along the way. Said lips were currently pulled into a slight smile that was probably meant to be disarming but only served to make her all the more terrifying, an effect enhanced by the cold, calculating eyes of a veteran tactician that were currently sizing him up.

“Ah, Vyrius, was it? Come, take a seat. We have -much- to discuss, you and I.”

The techpriest was no stranger to trouble; never any of this severity, sure, but this general situation nothing new to him. He immediately began wracking his brain for a suitable excuse, with justifications and denials of old bubbling up into the fore.

“Yes, Magos, I understand that servitors are not to be ridden, but I WAS the first one here.”

“No, Magos, I did not implant Kanisias’ hands with electoo circuits, why ever do you ask?”

“Of course those weren’t my red robes that got mixed in with the whites. Though you have to admit, pink does look quite fetching on you.”
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Unfortunately, Vyrius couldn’t see any way to talk his way out of this one, so he resigned his fate to the Machine God and took the seat without a word.

“So you are the one who has made my favorite charge so distraught.” Favorite? Well there’s no way this could end badly. “She had quite a bit to say about you, techpriest.”

Vyrius fidgeted with the box of supplies resting in his lap. “And I take it none of it was flattering?”

“Well I suppose that depends entirely on what one is flattered by.” Her flat tone and those cold, cold eyes of hers refused to give Vyrius any insight into what Maria meant by that.

“And what…exactly did she, erm, tell you about, well…”

Her faint smile stretched a little wider “Oh, she told me…enough.” She toyed with the last word like a cat with its prey and let it draw out “Enough to make this little exchange between you and I occur. You have -no- idea what I had to do to convince the Canoness to go through with this.”

Vyrius squirmed visibly in his seat. He could see no way out of this. Even if he did try to plead his case, she would no doubt take Nisania’s word over his own. Maybe if he ordered his servo skull to distract Maria, he could make a break for it and get to a shuttle before the other Sisters knew what he was up to. Sure, they would probably just destroy his ship once they realized what just happened and even if they didn’t his life would be one of misery and paranoia, but surely it would be better than whatever devious punishment that Sister Superior had planned for him, right?

“Of course, if you wanted to tell me more…”

If Vyrius still had a jaw, it would have dropped. “E-Excuse me?”

“Nisania was dreadfully scant in her description of your…” Maria leaned forward and stroked one of the cables protruding from Vyrius’ face. “Exchange of doctrines. I would be oh so grateful to learn what my little Nisa has gotten up to…”
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“I…wait, what?! Your Nisa?”

Maria leaned even closer, her face so terribly close to Vyrius’ he could feel her breath against his facemask. “My dear techpriest, who do you think taught her how to use those handcuffs?”

“Oh Omnissiah, she told you about the handcuffs?”

“Of course she told me about the handcuffs. I’m her Sister Superior and she’s my little Nisa. Now why don’t you make things easier on yourself and just tell me what I want to know.”

On one hand, it would no doubt make the next few days of Vyrius’ life much easier if he just relented to the obsessive Sororita, but on the other hand, he knew just what a bad idea it was to piss of Nisania. He also felt the slightest pang of guilt at the thought. He may not have been quite as responsible for that eternally troublesome as Nisania no doubt made him out to be, but he wasn’t entirely innocent either. If it was something Nisania didn’t want Maria, Vyrius felt that it wasn’t his place to tell her either.

“I fail to see what I can tell you, Sister Superior.” Vyrius stated with a fake apologetic shrug “Anything I say will be discounted as the words of a desperate borderline heretic trying to smear the good name of one of your own to save his own skin.”

Maria glowered at him and returned to her seat, resuming the former emotionless mask. “Very well then, we’ll play it your way. Be on your way, then, there is much work to be done and little time to do it. Sister Isha will show you the way.”
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Once again down the corridors the hapless techpriest marched, following who he surmised was Sister Isha. Perhaps this was hypocritical coming from a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus, but Vyrius had trouble telling one Sister apart from the other. He had tried using their various battle scars as identifiers, but even those began to all meld together into the sea of scowling, muscular warrior women with hair that was cut short and dyed white. He thanked the Omnisssiah for the few that didn’t dye their hair for whatever obtuse reasons the Adepta Sororitas did anything, though he was disappointed to find out so many had that tattoo under their eye, for he was kind of hoping to use it to identify Nisania was. Vyrius took note of all the scowls directed at him from any Sisters he and his escort happened to pass. There has always been tension between the Adeptus Mechanicus and the Adepta Sororitas on account of the former only distantly worshiping the Emperor that the latter adored with such fierce fervor, but surely his mere presence wasn’t this deserving of hate. Were these regular hateful glares or hateful glares specifically for him? Did they know? Now way they would…they did, didn’t they? No, of course not! Nisania wouldn’t dare tell them…like she did with Maria. What if they all had similar intimacies with each other? Oh Omnissiah. Trying to take his mind off his fate and all those angry faces that he felt would burn him alive with their gaze before their flamers ever got the chance to, Vyrius tried to probe Isha for information.

“So where are we headed anyways?”

Isha rolled her eyes. “Did the Sister Superior not inform you?”

“She was a bit…preoccupied with other matters at the time.”
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“Well why don’t you use that disgustingly mutilated brain of yours and guess what possible reason the Adepta Sororitas would force themselves to tolerate one of your kind for, techpriest.” Vyrius didn’t think he had ever heard one of the Sisters say his title without it sounding like a insult. This time was no exception.

“I suppose it would be too much to ask for it to involve us going on a quest to seek out the one Sister in this entire ship who doesn’t want to rip off my head and use my blood as lipstick.”

“Please do tell me if you find so that we may execute her for heresy.”

“Or at least some alcohol. I could use something to drink after all this.”

“But of course! I shall assemble a feast! A grand celebratory banquet dedicated to you and you alone! There will be food, drinks, and women beyond your imagination! All to commemorate how little faith you have in the Emperor!”

“I know you’re being sarcastic and all, but is there any way we can skip to that part? That sounds all sorts of splendid.”

Isha let out an exasperated sigh. “We are headed to the vehicle bay. We have need of you and your ilk’s talents.”

“Well why didn’t you say so? I bet you whatever it is I could have fixed it before we even set out on this little voyage.”

“We shall see, techpriest.”
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This news cheered Vyrius up considerably. He knew machines. Machines were easy. They didn’t try to kill you every time you so much as looked at them. Usually. It took a lot more to invoke the wrath of a machine spirit than it did a Sister of Battle, at least. He liked those odds. All he would have to do is patch up a few rhinos and then head on back to the Might of Knowledge, alive and theoretically in one piece. So lost was he in his thoughts of good tidings that he failed to notice when they arrived at their destination. After recovering from bumping into a very annoyed Isha, he almost dropped his box of supplies in surprise when he finally saw it.


An Exorcist. A relic from the Age of Apostasy. An ornate and powerful tank, covered in sculpting and its trademark Exorcist launchers shaped like organ pipes. This was something he never even bothered to dream about even looking at, let alone working on one. Alone. It was too much to comprehend, even with his augmented mental capacity.

“Weren’t you people were trying to torture me or something?”

“Just get over there and fix it already. I grow tired of listening to you babble.”
Vyrius decided to actually do as he was told just this once, for an Exorcist was awaiting him, yearning for his touch. This had just gone from the one of the worst days of his life to easily the very best. And then it was back down to one of the worst again.

At least he didn’t have to worry about discerning Nisania from the crowd, as there was no way anyone else could match the intensity of the Sister who was now approaching him with determined strides, the look on her face somewhere between the predatory gaze of a Dark Eldar who just caught its prey and the enraged stare of an Ork Warboss who just got called a lanky grot.
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“Well look who finally decided to show what’s left of his face. Took you long enough to get here, defiler.”

“Nice to see you too, Nisania. You see, that’s how civilized people greet each other. Now you give it a try.”

Nisania grabbed him by the scruff of his robe and ushered Vyrius into the interior of the Exorcist. “Just get in there and do your job you borderline heretic.”

“Need I remind you that you are the one who brought me here? I was more than willing to leave it at a one night thing.” Vyrius rebuked, rubbing his neck.

“And let you off the hook for your transgressions?” Nisania scoffed, “No, you and I will see much of each other in the coming days.”

“Delightful.” Vyrius deadpanned “Well can you at least tell me what’s wrong with this lovely piece of armor?”

“Isn’t that your job?” the Battle Sister strode over to the driver’s console and began striking it “The. Damned. Thing. Just. Won’t. Work!” She enunciated each word with a pound of her fist.

Vyrius leaped between Nissania and her inanimate victim. “Whoa whoa whoa! You can’t just go hitting a tank! Especially not an Exorcist! Do you WANT to anger its machine spirit and get us all killed?”

“What are you on about now, cultist?”

“Tell me, have you tried lighting any incense?”


“Anointed the device with holy unguents?”


“Recited at least one Rite to the machine?”

“Of course not.”

“And you wonder why the Exorcist won’t work for you. Poor thing must have been so neglected…”

“I don’t get it. It’s just a machine.”
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Vyrius let out a sigh which sounded more like a burst of static and stroked the tank where Nissania had previously been assaulting it. “Don’t you worry” he cooed to it, “I’ll make sure the big scary Sororitas don’t hurt you anymore. That’s right, I’m a man of science and I’m here to protect you. Now where did I leave my holy unguents…”

Nisania just eyed him in silence, arms crossed and eyebrow arched.

“You see, Nisania, a machine is much like a woman. If you light some incense, break out the oils, treat her gently and say all the right words, she’ll do whatever you want.”

“Gentle my still sore ass! You know nothing of the sort!” She laughed as much in mirth as in derision, “Though you do know your way around those oils…”

“Oh?” Vyrius queried, never turning away from his work, “Maybe I should ask your Sister Superior for tips, she seems to–”

Vyrius never got to finish his little teasing jest, for he was overtaken by vertigo as a hand grabbed one of his mechadendrites and hoisted him off the ground with it, bringing him face to face with a red-faced Nisania.

“How do you know about Maria and–”

“She told me!”

“She did?!”

“Well, it was implied, at least!”

Suddenly, Nisania’s eyes went wide with shock “Emperor preserve me! Y-You didn’t tell her anything about…us, did you?” Before he could respond, Nisania gave him a few frantic shakes. “Did you?!”

“No! Sweet Omnissiah no! I didn’t tell her anything!”

Her face softened and her grip slackened “Y-You didn’t?”

“No! Just…don’t tear my arms off and beat me to death with them for feths sake! And maybe put me back down if you are done threatening my life for now.”
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“Right! Sorry!” The distraught Sister unceremoniously dropped the equally distraught techpriest to the floor. With a deep breath and brushing off of his robes, Vyrius got back to work, muttering something about “Crazy fething bolter bitches and their stupid sexy muscles.” as he stretched his dendrites back into position.

“Machine God be praised, my work here is done.” Vyrius dusted his hands off and began to gather his things as the Exorcist rumbled to life.

“I don’t believe it!” Nisania gasped. “You fixed it!”

“What can I say, I've got the tou-mmf!” The rest of his statement was lost in the muffling embrace he now found himself caught in.

“You fixed it! Truly the Emperor walks with us today!

“Yes, yes, clearly it was all his doing and I was just standing around twiddling my thumbs until he showed up.” Vyrius manage to extricate himself from Nisania enough to say “Now if you could show me the quickest way back to my shuttle…”

Nisania placed him back on the ground and locked eyes with him. “Leave? Didn’t I tell you that you couldn’t get away from me that easily? You're not done here yet, Vyrius. Sister Superior Maria and her charges have been chosen to personally investigate the claims of heresy on Korlov and determine whether or not it warrants a purge. We wanted to bring the Exorcist with us as a symbol of the Emperor’s might, but it was malfunctioning. Thanks to you, however, we can deploy it with pride!”
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“And I take it you want me to go with to ensure its continued operation?”


“And I take it I have no say in the matter?”

“Not one!”

Vyrius static-ed out another sigh. “Well it’s not like I had anything better planned. Let’s get this over with already.”

Nisania giggled at the luckless techpriest as he trudged out of the Exorcist and followed after him, deciding he would need a guide if they were going to be ready in time for departure.


And that's all for now. I was thinking of finding a better name than Hangover Mechanicus, too. That one was chosen at three in the morning when I didn't realize people were going to want more to the story. Any suggestions, criticisms, calling me a faggot, etc, would be grand, but I'm heading out for the next few hours so I wont be able to respond to any posts. I will read em when I get back, though!
Well written.
Im thoroughly enjoying this.
Top chap OP
Indeed, I like your story OP.
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Well at least I entertained a few folks. If I do write another chapter/segment, there should be at least some actual action to it.
Watch out for the janitor if you intend on making the story in any way explicit.
Other than that, gotta say I love your story so far.
I cant in any way or form do eroticism right so what you got in the first chapter is probably as hardcore as its going to get.

And I suppose I should take the time to ask if there's enough audience for more. I don't wanna be That Guy who forces everyone to beg for his work, but at the same time I don't want to be That Guy who clogs /tg/ with his writefaggotry no one is even reading.
fun read, interested in more
I'm enjoying it so far.
In that case, I'll sack the fuck up, quit being so self-conscious, and finish what I goddamn started.

Also slapped this shit onto suptg.

The OP's pic features the best way to hit on women.

Drinking their drinks.
Well of course. Then they'll be the ones asking you to buy them another drink instead of the other way around. Instant ice breaker.
This is an awesome story, please continue.
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I love it. Need moar.
There wont be anymore tonight and bumping this thread probably wont help since it will most likely be a few days before I can really sit down and write. I will be sure to post it on /tg/ whenever I reach a satisfactory chunk as well as on suptg. So just keep your eyes peeled and maybe give me the occasional feedback. What you like, don't like, want to see more/less of, etc.

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