>>1301602
Nice, I got home just in time.
Am I supposed to chose one?
>"VIGGO! VIGGO! LORD VIGGO!" Squire Caen's Strained voice called out as he stumbled through the burning city of Cerroghost. His sire lost, his chapter lost, his resolve faltering.
I want to see Caen get to his fellows.

>>1301614
>Am I supposed to chose one?
Yeah basically what do you feel like doing or seeing in this phase of the raid

Looks Like we rollan with Lil Caen again writan

>>1301602
>"In Their Name." Whispered Warden Uggo. Bracing his heavy bolter, he watched his Auspex. Ghost-like pings echoing on the borders of his sensors

Change my vote for the most popular one, if you need´, ´cause I dont know what the fuck is happening, but I love 40k quest

>>1301698
The prevoius thread is still up if you search for it

Previous Thread
>>1283529

Cerroghost.

A sprawling citadel of wood made from the surrounding forests. Deep black trees that stretch high enough almost to block out the sun surround the city on all sides. The act of warding them off from the Citadel a daily exercise and sacred duty, the symbol of the city being an axe. It is unknown why the Forests of Cerroghost grow so aggressively, many priests have thought it to be holy providence. Seeing a power in the nearly unstoppable growth of the forests. Others believing it to be a test, the day the forests finally eat Cerroghost akin to a rapture of sorts.

"VIGGO" You scream the name of the Knight-Brother at the top of your lungs.

The once black-bark city burns. Hungering flames sticking to the wood as it hungrily eats away at the city. You and Viggo traveled through the plains of Carmentia seeking out the seemingly vanished 5th Vanguard Chamber. The drums of the enemies still distorting your communications and causing untold amounts of discomfort to both you and Viggo. Your cheek bandaged after the two of you managed to retreat from the tide of fleeing cultists. Minutes turned into hours, and light turned into dark as the both of you searched to no avail. The Drums hounding on your consciousness all the while.

Then you reached the Forests of Cerroghost. Viggo led the way. Citing that it was his duty as your temporary Sire to protect you. The massive Forest obscured your sight, but his Auspex kept both of you safe from any threats.

Then the Drums reached a new crescendo, and you lost conscious. Waking to find yourself in the burning ruins of Cerroghost. Weapons and armor still present. Viggo gone.

"VIGGO!" You smash your way into an abandoned shop. The bloodstained walls and desecrated clothing remnants of the cultist's profane deeds. The sight causing your blood to boil. You pick at your bandaged cheek.

Then you hear a shuffling of feet. You spin around, movements sluggish from the constant dirge of the drums. Their alien pattern and rhythm filling your limbs and dragging you down. Your eyes scan around the wood-paved streets. Ash and embers fall from the sky as the city burns. The crackling of wood nearly deafening.

>Keep searching for Viggo in the city. He has to be here.
>Head towards the Citdel
>Try to find who's stalking you
>Write-In

>>1301735
>Try to find who's stalking you
while pretending to
>Keep searching for Viggo in the city. He has to be here.

>>1301772
Gib Dice

1d100

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>1301802

>1

>>1301811
Fucking mediocre

Rolled 34 (1d100)

Lessee

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Yup

>>1301811
You bring your hands away from your cheek.

You know you saw something. Even with these damned drums bearing down you know there was something there.

"VIGGO!" You call out once more. Half searching for the lost Knight and half the source of the sound.

You keep walking through the streets, calling out, searching desecrated homes, your frustration mounting all the while. The work of these heretics and the lack of Viggo continues to build a rage with you. Feeding a tiny spark and turning it into a bright ember.

The unceasing drums not helping at all.

"Viggo!" You shout once more, and your eyes scour the streets. Smoke blots out the smaller Moon of Carmentia, the fires providing all the light you need while their fickle nature cause shadows to dance in and out of your vision.

Nothing once more.

You grind your fangs together. The habitat of a life you left behind still frequent. You remember how the Chaplains tried to inform you that the Arch-Enemy would use the foulest of tricks to gnaw at you and your faith. But you never expected something like this. You rub your left cheek once again, the itchy nuisance returning once more.

You hear the jingling of chains.

Three metal chains wrap around your arm and snap it back. You follow the movements, knowing that if you were to fight against the strength, your arm would be broken right now. Your body is quickly dragged through the streets, and you struggle to twist yourself over, every move you make interrupted by a twist of the chain around your arm sending you crashing into the woodworks.

You rev your chain sword into life, the adamantium teeth quickly roaring and screaming as they begin to spin at blurring speeds. You slam the blade into a link on the chain, interrupting its movement and anchoring yourself all at once. The chains quickly retreat into a darkened alleyway no more than 5 meters away from you.

Standing to your feet, you keep your hands on the throttle. Looking towards your previously ensured arm, you see the cloth covering it tattered and ripped. The pale red skin underneath turning pink. You rotate your shoulder and shake your arm trying to ignore the pain seizing it.

>Stand your ground here.
>Chase the chains into the alleyway.
>Retreat.
>Write-In

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>>1301927
>Stand your ground here

Fucking fuck

>>1301927
>>Chase the chains into the alleyway.
Fuck it, time for battle.

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>>1301698
>>1301927

>Change my vote for the most popular one, if you need

I mean it, btw

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>1301942
>>1301937
Roll 1d100

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>1301958
No man left behind.

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Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>1301958

>>1301963
good shit.

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>>1301963
>>1301962
Writan

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>>1301963
>>1301962
With a screaming blade in hand, you sprint into the alleyway. Eager to unleash some of your frustrations on the enemy.

The alley is completely unremarkable. Smashed and burned crates lie scattered around the alley, the telltale signs of a passing fire scorched into the walls, shadows dancing from the flames above. The lack of blood being the most striking feature. Something that makes the door at the end of the alley even more suspect.

You slowly walk towards it, your blade and heart readied for what comes next. The sound of the drums briefly forgotten as you move towards the door. You move your hands towards the knob, three shadows snaking around your head.

You pivot in place, raising your blade and deflecting the chains towards the assailant.

A man girded in black leather and purple furred hides stands in the middle of the alley. He must be a little less than half your height, his head covered by a capirote, crested with the mark of Slaanesh. Similar marks and badges adorn his body at random intervals, his chest piece fastened together by the image of a screaming tortured figure.

The Follower of Slaanesh flicks his wrist, the chains returning to the whip within his hand where they coil in on themselves.

"Lost from the herd?" His voice rough and grating to your ears. "My~ My~" The man taps the whip in his hands. "Whatever will I do with you hm?"

"You'll die." You spit back at him.

"You think you can bring me to the most exotic pleasure?" He laughs. "I HOPE SO!"

The man swings his whips the three chains separating and swirling through the air. You hold your blade in front of you waiting for them to get closer. The first chain speeds past its brethren, seemingly eager to kill, mere moments from your throbbing arm.

You quickly plant your chain sword in the wooden wall beside you, once again trapping a chain. The chain tries to retreat but is unable to move with the adamantium blade locked in the wall.

The remaining two chains charges you nonetheless. You raise your arm and the chains wrap around them instead of battering at you.

"Have you now, my boy!" He shouts and pulls.

Just as planned.

You don't fight against it, allowing yourself to be dragged off your feet for a mere second.

Then you pull back.

Shock paints the man's eyes as he's dragged off his feet towards you this time, and straight into your outstretched fist. Bones crack underneath your hands and he bounces off it into the wall, chains going slack as he crashes into the store beside you, knocking up ash and dirt.

You charge him, the chains quickly rising again and trying to ensure your neck. You roll underneath them and pull on the third chain, quickly freeing your chain sword and returning it to your hands. Then you sever the chain, in the process cutting a furrow in the ground.

The man jumps to his feet.

"Oh. A Wolf in Sheep's clothing are you? My~ My~" Surprise and anger evident in his tone.

You smile, baring your fangs.
>Roll 1d100

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>1302087

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Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>1302087

Rolled 51 (1d100)

>>1302087

>>1302099
>>1302103
>>1302137
The two of you circle each other. Both looking for a weakness to exploit or a flaw to probe away at. The crackling fire of the burning city and both of you knocking around burned wooden remains.

In the end, you make the first move.

"FOR THE ANGEL! FOR THE EMPERORS!"

"FOR THE PRINCE!"

The man swings his dual chain whips, the snake-like metal twirling in the air hungering for your injury. You deflect the first barrage with the teeth of the blade, hoping to sever the chains in the air. Instead, they simply bounce off the walls and redirect their assault. The heretic dances and spins with each deflect, directing the chains like some a conductor. The chains quickly moving to his whims, ready to sing a song of pain.

"You smell of rot and pus, my boy." Another flick and one chain dives low after you deflect it. You quickly step on it, but it simply constricts around your foot, causing you to scream in pain by the amount of force it squeezes with. Your raise your sword high, intent on severing the chain but the remaining chain slams into your chest plate.

You're knocked off your feet, and you gasp the air escaping from your chest. You slam through another wall and out onto the streets, bouncing once before you roll down the avenue. Climbing to your feet, you see the man leaping down at you, the two chains stiff on the whip. You roll out the way as the chains dig into the earth, quickly cutting through the sturdy Cerroghostian wood.

"Don't worry. I'll fix that up for you." He pulls his chains from the ground, the two chains mimicking a sword. He cracks his neck and spits out blood. Still feeling the effects of your strike from earlier.

You drop into your stance. The drums still reverbing off your skull. You go cross-eyed once as you shake yourself alert.

"You hear it don't you? Our song? I'm sure by now this whole world does." You see the capirote he wears curve up, mimicking a smile "Then, the real fun begins~ Until then..." He flourishes his blade around and adopts a fencer's stance.

"Keep me company, my Boy. I'm starting to enjoy our time~"

You growl, your teeth gnashing together. Your cheek starts flaring up again.

>Flee. You came to find Viggo. Not endure this heretic.
>Press the attack.
>Let him make the next move and react
>Write-In (Words? Battle Plans? Actions?)

Gonna have to run out won't be back for atleast three hours. If anyone is alive then I'll keep writing

>>1302182
>Press him for information on the drums.
>By insulting them.
>While you press the attack.
Your so-called song is an auditory abortion, and I imagine anything born of it must similarly be misshapenly unwanted.

>>1302182

Seconding this
>>1302217

>>1302217
>>1302281
Yea. Better to die fighting. He wouldn't let Caen flee anyway.

>>1302182

>Press him for information on the drums.
>By insulting them.
>While you press the attack.

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I'm back ya niggas alive?

>>1303122
Thanks for coming back. The concern's mutual.

And of course we're alive; there'll always be players no matter what happens. It's good DMs like you that we're worried about.

>>1303122
Having dinner, but I´m here boss on a Saturday night T.T

>>1303122
Here until I doze off.

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>>1303287
>>1303286
>>1303163
Gib dice

1d100

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1.74 MB PNG

>>1303342

Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>1303342

>>1303363
Wtf

>>1303363
>>1303370

dice+1d100

That on the Option´s field

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>>1303367
wew, My boy

Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>1303370
dice+1d100

Work damn it. Did I just become retarded?

>>1303376
Oh, rip Caen ;_;

>>1302103
>>1303367

>9

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Rolled 24 (1d100)

I wonder who could be behind all the 9s in this thread...

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So
>>1303367
Feathers, or
>>1303377
>>1303419
Claws (2+4=6)

You continue to grind your fangs, mostly in frustration and your mounting rage. But a small part of you not given over to your passion races to think.

Their song? This detestable noise? This... Blasphemy? You didn't think there was much to it beyond distortion and augmenting the cultists. Nor did you think it could stretch across the planet, But, this is THE enemy. Chaos and its agents itself.

You remember Jesaias' words clearly.

"Expect nothing. Leave yourself open to the possibility of anything. Remain focused. Most of all. Remain Faithful."[/i/]

You expected logic.
Reason.

Nothing you've seen today makes sense. Your Chapter is gone. Viggo is gone. All that remains is you. You can not fall.

You will not fall.

You walk In Their Light.
You walk by Their Blessing.
You fight In Their Name.

You bare your fangs at the Heretic, smiling.

"My~ My~ Does the cub feel resolved? Speak your mind, my boy."

"Resolved? I still see His light; His Blood flows in my veins. I am always resolved Cur."

"Oh, brother." He sighs. "You're one of those aren't you."

"Honestly? I was pondering this so called song."

"Oh!" His capirote twists into a smile once more, eyes beaming with light. "Do tell! Do you hear the crescendos? The decrescendos? The tone that makes your heart leap and your blood boil~ Oh my, Prince!" He fawns over himself, hugging his body tight in a display that makes your stomach churn and your mouth sour.

"Really? This auditory abortion? Musicians all across the Segmentum must be weeping currently. To hear music twisted in such a way? I imagine anything born of it must similarly be misshapenly unwanted." You smirk at him.

His eyes narrow and his body quakes.
(1/?)

"HOW DARE YOU!" He shrieks.

The follower turns his "Chainblade" at you, the links twisted upon themselves into a deadly sharp point and lunges.

Even as you're trying to leave yourself open to any possibility, any change. You never expected him to move this fast.

You just barely manage to turn aside his thrust before he's already beside you, chains wrapping around your neck and flinging you towards a shop. You manage to upright yourself and bare the blunt end of your chain sword before he impales you through the chest. The both of you slam into the store and tumble over each other. A sharp explosion of pain ignites your right thigh, wetness spreading through your crimson fatigues.
You come to a rest with the maddened eyes of the Slaaneshi over you, twisting his blade into your thigh.

"YOU CAN'T EVEN COMPREHEND THE COMPLEXITY! HOW DARE YOU!? HOW DARE YOU!? HOW DARE YOU EVEN TRY TO JUDGE IT! DO I HAVE TO CUT OFF YORU EARS TO MAKE YOU UNDERSTAND!?"

You slam your head into his face, his nose crunching beneath it and you push him off of you. You reach down to grab the blade to find his hand gripping your wrist.

"YOU DO NOT!" HE backhands you, disorienting you and cause you to stumble. The blade quickly leaves your thigh, and you feel it slash at your cheek, freeing your bandages and causing the blood to spill easily. "YOU DISEASED, FLAWED, PATHETIC SHEEP!"

You spin chain sword roaring at him, and he jumps in the air, spinning and planting a heel into your temple.

"THAT ABORTION!" He spits the words at you like venom... Venom. "IT IS THE SONG OF OUR LORD! IT IS HIS HERALD! HIS DIRGE! IT IS THE CONQUEST OF THIS WORLD! THE MOLESTATION OF IT! THE END!"

You charge towards him, intent on tackling. The Slaaneshi leaps out the way before charging back in. You dodge to the left and lash out with your blade. Catching him by his ankle, chain sword eating away at what little flesh it touches. His pained shout true music to your ears.

You feel hands grip onto your dirtied locks and slam you into the wooden floors, sending spiderweb flaws through it. He turns your head around and a fist slams into your nose.

"AT IT'S END IS THE END OF EVERYTHING YOU LOVE IMPERIAL! YOUR FALSE GOD CAN'T SAVE YOU!" He stabs you in your hand, the pain causing you to let go of your chain sword for the briefest moments. "YOUR TOYS WON'T SAVE YOU! YOUR HERD CAN'T SAVE YOU! WHEN THE SONG ENDS AND OUR LORD ARRIVES I WILL BE SURE TO PERSONALLY ASK FOR YOU!" He begins to rain blows down into your face. Each punch testing your tired body and fatigued mind. The drums still plying at your consciousness. "YOU AND ME WILL STAY HERE UNTIL THE END OF TIME! YOUR SKIN WILL BE MADE INTO DRUMS TO SIGNAL THE ARRIVAL OF OUR LORD!" He raises a foot and smashes it into your skull, burying your head into the wood, breaking it finally beneath your weight and his force.

"SAY SOMETHING! I WANT TO HEAR YOUR DEFIANCE! I WANT TO SAVOUR THE LAST OF IT I WILL EVER HEAR! GO ON! SPEAK! SPEAK DAMN YOU!"

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Formatting REEEEE

His foot moves from your face.

You smile.

There's nothing to be said at this point.

So you spit in his face.

A light green substance spews out of your mouth and lands squarely in his eyes.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" He screams in pain as your acid eats away at his eyes.

Oh Emperor...
By Sanguinus's blood...
Now that is music.

>Roll 1d100 to TIP THE SCALES

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>1303610
Lets see

Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>1303610
What is this foul corruption?

However much battle has wracked our body, this heretic shall be felled by the might of Man, and Man alone.

In the name of the Emperor!

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>>1303626
>>1303620

>>1303676
What sort of system do you use? Higher is better or the other way around?

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Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>1303610

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>>1303699
Higher with arbitrary degrees Ya insulting his precious song really fucked him over and lowered the DCs at the cost of increasing the penalty for a failure since he's intent on literally murdefucking you right now

>>1303701
>That roll
>That pic

File: EmperorSureal.gif (2.64 MB, 480x270)

2.64 MB GIF

>>1303711
>Using if the emperor had text to speech device picture.

You. I like you. Rogal is absolutely hilarious.

>>1301602

Let me give you some advice, don't use roman numerals for the threads. They end up making a mess of the archiving process, its more difficult to look for an specify thread and if your quest keeps going long enough you will have trouble keep track of the number.

>>1303701
>>1303626
>>1303620
You climb to your feet. Your face aching in places, cheek burning as the air hits the exposed flesh, the bleeding in your thigh continuing. With your augmentations, you should have been able to keep fighting through this, the fatigue a non-factor.

But three bloody days. Not even the live drills the Knights put you do could compare to these three days.

"AAAAARRRGGGGHHHH! FUCK!FUCK!FUCK!" The cultist yells and shrieks.

The Betcher's Gland is rarely utilized. Between the Knights dismissive attitude towards it and the incompatibility with the Power Armour Helmets its discouraged more within the Chapter.

You'll have to apologize later.
You have something to finish.

Leaving behind your Chainsword, you rush towards the cultist. Reaching towards your combat knife, you start by cutting the tendons in his arm. Your knife slides through his leather and hides with ease, finding home within his flesh and tearing a bloody line through it.

He yells and tries to swing his whip at you, the two chains no longer entwined into his blade. They swing forth like feral beasts, uncoordinated, angry. You easily dodge and weave in and out of their path, The Heretic screams mix in pain and frustration. You zip into his guard whenever he overextends his self and slice him apart, still focusing on the arm holding the chains. The chains draw back on the handle, stiffening into a blade once more.

The cultist leaps back, swiping at the air trying to defend aginst a foe he can't see futilely. You push onwards, parrying and catching his ragged, desperate swings and thrusts. He tries to strike at you with his free hand, digits forming claws while his thumb closes in on the palm. You quickly slice his fingers off before slamming your blade into his palm.

While he cries in pain, you pull him closer to you, wrapping his chain wielding arm into your armpit and pulling. The headbutt you deliver has him visibly dazed, his exposed eyes unfocused. Then you headbutt him again, feeling a dampness spread around his forehead, your own ringing with phantom pain. You release him and allow him to fall onto the floor.

A kick sends his chain whip away as you mount him, eager to pay him back for his past transgressions. The meaty feeling of your fists impacting flesh, the cracking of bones, the sense of him break underneath you exhilarates you.

This is what your life has been leading up to.

To see Heretics broken by you. To deliver death unto their enemies. Each blow you feel less and less resistance. One of his eyes pop under the force of your next blow, blood and eye fluids smacking you in your face as yo continue to savage him. Making him feel all the pain and suffering he has imparted unto others.

>"Be Redeemed in Blood" finish him.
>Leave him alive. He may be of some use.
>He doesn't deserve the honor or your words or another breath. Just kill him.
>Write-In

Gonna have to call it right here as I'm passing out.
Thanks for reading and participating and I seriously apologize for the frequent delays. I won't be writing tomorrow as I have to write my other quest on akun

>>1303815

>>1303815
I understand greatly. Honestly I'm not planning on this being more than a series of one-shots. The Angels Arum are largely based off a chapter I rolled up one day. This is basically how the Chapter got to those results I made... Sorta

>>1304127
>>He doesn't deserve the honor or your words or another breath. Just kill him

>>1304127
>"Be Redeemed in Blood" finish him.

>>1304139
What quest?

Just end his misery. Has been enough talking, and Caen needs to think of his next move.

>>1304179
>What quest?
https://anonkun.com/stories/symbiote-quest-20/nLFhaigrSfd8Kdqfr/issue-14-real-american/ZvMBBnJfJ9Wa7fH6e

>>1304127

>"Be Redeemed in Blood" finish him.

>>1304127
>>Write-In
"Enjoy the sensation of death, heretic."
>Kill him.

>>1304127
>He doesn't deserve the honor or your words or another breath. Just kill him.

Sorry for the lack of any communication or updates got swept up in life

I'll announce when I can do this next at

https://twitter.com/Caribbean_Anon

>>1301602
>Making a quest about faggot Mary Sue bluhd enhgels
>not making a thread about masterrace space-viking-werewolfs
The wolfdex wolfstartes does not wolf this action