Inquisitorial Penal Regiment Veeky Forums: Cakewalk Avenue Edition

Tune your ears and listen up, you Penal jackasses. I've just received word that we are now orbiting the garden world known as Luyzuno-Octov.

Chill your asses Kriegers. It's just a standard patrol for now. Absolutely nothing to worry about, or to mention. If something does arise, I'll let you all know as soon as possible.
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1d4Chan: 1d4chan.org/wiki/Campaign:Penal_regiment_designation_Veeky Forums

Steam Group: steamcommunity.com/groups/40k_penal_regiment.

FAQ:
>What the fuck is this?
Somewhat a campaign of crack-infused free-form roleplay in the grim darkness of the far future.

>When do you guys make these threads?
Usually mondays at 4PM GMT, but they sometimes extend to Tuesdays if we got caught in the middle of something when the thread died and it was too late to make another one the same day.

>Can I join in?
Sure, just think of a character and have fun, you can find most info in 1d4chan albeit it's ussually a little bit out of date in comparison to where the threads are.

>Is there any requirement in character creation.
Not really, we've had Xeno infiltrators, Chaos infiltrators, Villains, Heroes, Normal Guardsmen, Crazed Guardsmen, Assassins, Psykers, Space Marines, Inquisitors, Squats... just think whathever and join the fun.

>Is it allowed to have more than a single character?
Yes as long as you don't use it to powerplay.

>So how you guys do the playan'?
We tend to use spoilers for OOC chat, but nothing is set in stone.
We tend to use greentexts for describing a character's actions, but again nothing is set in stone.
Use d20s for combat checks and d100s for other things you want to roll, higher Is better.
It's important to know that the regiment is now in the employ of a radical Ordo Xenos Inquisitor, with influence from an Ordo Malleus Inquisitor and under the watch of an Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor. Yes we've been through a lot of shit.

Other urls found in this thread:

discord.gg/83Zvx
twitter.com/SFWRedditVideos

>Laying unconscious in the Medicae, would be Stormtrooper Malak Ordenius.
>Though his physical wounds have fully healed, he has still not woken up.
>After a short time, his vitals begin to perk up, a sign that he may be coming around.

>vox transmission
"Boarding sequence intitating"

>the ship docks and the regiment got a brand new Comissar Lord, sent by the parent inquisition to keep the men in line

>He walks off the ramp and heads straight to the bridge to meet the captain along with the leading elements of the regiment

>He'd stand at attention the moment he sees the Commissar.

Welcome aboard the "Judgements Teeth", M'lord! We've been expecting you all morning!

>he stops and looks at the men

>he is wearong the commissar's trentch coat along with the standard issue carpace chestplate
>his head bears the iconic hat, which strikes terror in the hearts of foes and guardsmen (but mostly guardsmen)

>his face looks like he experienced a fair share of combat, his clean shaven visage decorated by claw scars and acid burn marks, along with a thin oxygen tube that curves around his face and into one of his nostrils

>he nods
"At ease"
"Lets not waste anymore time, line up the men for an inspection"

>He'd nod before hitting his vox, and ordering the men to assemble.
>He would remain silent for a few moments, before finally casting his gaze to the Commissar.

If I may, Commissar. There's something I feel I should warn you about, before the men arrive. Something that we find often comes as a bit of a shock to most of the Commissars that end up being assigned to us.

>hand in hand behind his back
"Speak, guardsman"

>Kane would walk back into the room, fleshy again! A bit too fleshy...in the cleavage department
"Guys, would anyone want to drink with me? Slaanesh fucked me again and i need to drink out the-"
>he'd notice the commissar

>He glances at the thing
"Luitenant, restrain this vile creature this moment"

Very well, Sir.

As you very well know, Xenos, Mutants, and other similar undesirables are normally not tolerated throughout the Imperium, and as such, they are nearly, always to be shot on sight.

>He'd remain silent for a moment, biting his lower lip as he tries to think of a proper way to word what he's about to say, so as to not get "Blam'd".
>Thinking of no other way to say it, he simply comes out and says it.

... Unfortunately, due to our relationship and connects with the various Inqusitorial Ordos, as well as what can only be described as unfavourable luck. Our regiment is continuously infiltrated, as well as allied, with various kinds of Xenos.

>He'd, take a deep breath, fully prepared to be blam'd at this point by the Commissar.

Orks, Tau, Traitors, Eldar, and Necrons have all at one point or another, infiltrated the reigment. Often for short periods of time, while others end up beoming... permeant members of the regiment's Guard forces. All of this is allowed under direct orders from the regiment's Inqusitorial Overlords.

Sir commissar sir that's no planet! W-we're orbiting... YOUR MOM!

>The Tankers are just muckin' about with the Hammerhead, wherever it is the Tanks are parked.
>Drinking wine, eating cheese, giving out positive waves.

>he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"Inspecion. Now. Every single man, woman, xeno or mutant."
"If even one fails to show up i shall write the death warrant for the entire regiment."

>opens his eyes, forehead vein pulsing

"This instant."

*he'd chuckle*
"I suppose you wouldn't like a drink?"
*he starts running away*
"GUYS! THERE'S A BLOODY COMMISAR!"

Rolled 4 (1d10)

>fires off a shot from his bolt pistol after the cheeky git

"INSPECTION THIS INSTANT"

>Storms off to the inspection place

You see... that's the problem Commissar...

>He remains silent for a moment.

Despite our best efforts, we have been unable to do anything to actually harm, or restrain this vile heretic.

All our efforts are met with him either regenerating, or simply reappearing outside of his cell.

As such, due to his *cough cough* utter stupidity *cough cough* and his *cough* general Incompetentance *cough cough cough*. We are under orders to leave him alone for the moment being.

These orders come straight from the regiment's Inquisitorial powers that be. I'm afraid there is nothing I can do about him.

You what?
>"Aaaaaaaw fuk. Better hide the booty mates."
>"Ja, lets get to it."
>"Aye buds, gotta conceal it sharpish like."
>"Da, we will get to work Comrades."
>"I-I don't wanna get shot a-already....."

>With much effort, there is soon no Hammerhead in sight, then they head to the inspection area.

> the bullet would hit him in the knee, he'd ignore it and keep running towards the tank crew
>the bullet wound would regenerate before the commisar's eyes

Case in point, M'lord.

"Guys! Guys! What do we do?"
>his boobs would jiggle in fear
"I can't run far with these!"

>he holds back his fury at the insolence of Kane and inspects the men
>he stops at every single one for a good look and a fair slice of judgement

"You, draw your pistol and shoot yourself in the groin for punishment"

>After inspecting them all he stops
"Is this the whole regiment?"

>throws himself out of a bunk and steps over the dress uniform he left on the floor.

"At least we were allowed to sleep in."

>He takes a pair of pants from the locker and laces his boots, intending to make it passed a kitchen on his way to the assembly.

>"Kamerad there is hidden door in Bulkh-"

>Erwin, along with everyone else, go completely still as the Commissar makes his presence known.

>He would merely squint his eyes at the shameful display going on about him.
>If it wasn't for his orders, he'd have willingly shot every xeno, heretical, and mutant member of the regiment a dozen times over by now.
>Suffice to say, he probably would have shot himself at this point too, if it wasn't for the fact that it would permanently stain his flawless record.

Sadly not M'lord. A recent daemonic incursion gas left several men, and one if the stormtroopers in the Medicae. And--

---- up until just now, we were missing one of our tanker squads.

Other than that, this is pretty much everyone you'll be dealing with on a regular basis.

>He'd give a dirty look to the each of the various Ork Kommando's, heretics, Eldar Infiltrators, Mutants, and other undesirables of the regiment.
>But he'd especially give the Mutants, and heretics the worst of it.

>Rush from down the hall

Jimmy: "Shit shit shiiiitt!"

Holdrin: "Why didnt anyone tell us we got a commisar!?"

Fritz: "You what this means, right!? No more booze night!"

Holdrin: "Ain't nobody taking booze night from me!"

Jaemis: "Shut up and stand at attention! Did you bring your uplifiting primers at least!?"

>They Nod

Jaemis: "Good. Now stand in line, quick!"

>They stand at attention

Jaemis: "Artillery expert Jaemis and crew reporting, sir!"

>Jimmy and Holdrin salute

Fritz: "Stormtropper Medic Fritz reporting, sir!"

>She salutes

>He'd resist the urge to face palm, as well as to shoot the late comers in their knew caps.

We also have "These" tankers as well...

>His eyes are like razors as he glares at them to fall in line.

>The felinid gets an especially long look

"Apalling state of the regiment, i will need to requesition reenforcements"
"Not even enough numbers to be used as cannon fodder, if you did not have the inquisition's protection this regiment would not exist"

>he looks at them and his trigger hand twitches

"At ease."
>he leaves to his new office to set up a supply of fresh recruits

>They show no fear, except Jimmy who feels slightly intimidated
>They are already standing in line

>They are relived

relieved*

Understood, M'lord.

>He'd glare viciously at the various Xenos, heretics, Mutants, and regular guardsmen assembled before him

What are you incompetents waiting for! Dismissed!

>Anya trembles at all the attention from the powerful people wot can kill her if they want to.
>The rest meanwhile, just give the most polite dirty looks in the Sector.

>Yawns and stretches an arm behind his head which he follows by rubbing gunk from his eyes

"Did command give us new..."

>Finally noticing the commissar he goes silent and salutes, starting to regret leaving a uniform jacket back at his room.

>They leave and go back to their tank

Jimmy: "It...Could have gone worse....right?"

Fritz: "Oh yes. More than you think."

>His heart rate begins to raise at this point, and his body begins to twitch in small ways, as his mind has finally finished sorting out the broken mess that is Malak Ordenius. Allowing him to slowly start to awaken from his two day coma.

Rolled 15 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>pulls strings, makes calls and transmissions, uses his comissarant charm to "persuade" a few prisions to send bodies the regiment's way

>roll for ammount

"Do you...think we should visit Malak?"
"You go do that, i'll be with you in a moment"

>Far from milions, but the regiment will get 1000-2000 recruits, enough to join a larger force and make a difference...maybe

>Jaemis stops as they are walking

Jaemis: "You guys go ahead. I just remembered to check on something."

>They nod and let him go

Mhm, we'll head over.
>The six of them head towards Medical, and away from any people that might want to try and execute people.

>He heads into medical and walks towards malak's bed.
>He sees him slowly waking up

"Hey...You waking up, buddy?"

>he'd approach the commisar
>a bit afraid he'd get shot in the groins, but otherwise with a confident gait
"S-sir commisar, as a...represantative of all that is wrong with this ship i would ask you: would you like a drink?"

Rolled 15 (1d20)

>Shoots him again

"OUT"

>his upper head would get splattered over the floor while the rest of the body would just turn along
"Right'O...Gi-sir"

>His head would toss and turn for a moment, before finally going still.
>A moment later, a blinding light would begin to fill his vision, as his eye lids slowly start to peel open.
>His vision, as well as his other senses, would finally return to him, and he is left wondering where he is. His eyes slowly looking around.

W-...Where am I...? What... happened to me? I feel sore all over...

Uh......Medics said you fell unconscious in a hallway? Then you sort of.........slept for two days.

"Relax kid. You fell unconscious in the hallway. Me and the boys took you here, and you've been here for the past two days. How do you feel?"

"Hey you. I'm fairly sure a melta could disrupt your attachment to the ship, why would you think the regiment would continue haunting the commons?"

>postures himself with some authority because he knows what the armory has waiting to be requisitioned (a melta.)

"Malak...are you fine, soldier?"
>his head would have regenerated by this point
>he would shake and swing with every step
"These bloody things really are a nuisance"

>He slowly tries to sit up. Using his hand to wipe away the gunk, and other debris from his eyes.
>His black eye has thankfully almost disappeared, but it still stings when he touches it.

I see... the training must have been more exhausting than I'd thought...

>He casts a glance to the tanker and his crewmen, a curious look in his eyes as he notices their grease covered uniforms.

Did they switch out the nurses uniforms for something greasier while I was out... or are you the guys who found me?

"That would have been me and the Russ boys. Hows the eye?"

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>He tilts his head towards the other group of grease covered tankers.

Oh? Then I guess I owe you three my thanks for bringing me h-

>His voices trails off at the sight of the big tited daemon man before him.
>The sight of which causes his recent training to kick in, as he reach es out for the nearest sharp object to impale the daemon with.
>He then charges forward, and attempts to do just that. Arms only with a scalpel.

DIE DAEMON!!!

>shifts his body to face Malak

"I've seen medics and no nurses. Maybe better to keep sleeping."

>he scowls at Kane and turns his nose up, having noticed the slip in his speech after confronting chaos.

"I'm quite sure I read we had a few when I was checking my brief."

Rolled 83 (1d100)

"Woah, hey! Take it easy!"

>He tries to restrain Malak

>the scalpel would carve into the neck as they would both drop onto the floor
"Nngh...Malak...what in the fuck is wrong with you?"

Um......no, we're the Ta-
Emperor man, chill out!

>Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

>Major Argus, massive and eternally enraged, strides in. He growls in his gravelly baritone
Why, in the name of Holy Terra and Sol itself, have you shit-eating prostate-milkers interrupted my nap?

Rolled 46 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>He'd try to shake the tank crew off of him.
>He'd almost be acting like an animal trying to escape from a trap, to attack the hunter that was before him.

ARE YOU PEOPLE CRAZY!? THERES A FOLLOWER OF SLANESSH RIGHT INFRONT OF YOU! LET ME GO SO I CAN SEND HIS FILTH TI THE WARP!

>While struggling to escape Jaemis and his crews grasp.

DON'T YOU DARE UTTER MY NAME, SLANESSHI FILTH! I FOLLOW THR GOD EMPEROR'S LIGHT!

>He continues to try and swipe the blade at the bleeding, bimbo looking daemon man.

---THE FACT THAT YOU EVEN KNOW IT IS AN INSULT UPON ME, AND MY PURITY!

Rolled 24 (1d100)

"Emperor damn it, what did they do to you!? Why the hell are you attacking kane!?"

>Continues restraining him

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>He manages to finally break free of the troopers grip, and begins to stab the scalpel into the bimbo man daemon before him.

TO THE WARP WITH YOU, VILE SPAWN!

"Ghhn...what in the?"
"Something's wrong with him Jaemis! He's...tin..."
>he'd look at Malak
"Do you remember me? Or any of us?"

"Oh, god...."

>He tries to restrain malak again

"Get out of here, Kane!"

>His eyes as he continues to cut into the daemon before him, are filled with only killing intent as he ignore your words. There is no sign of recognition.

Rolled 9 (1d100)

>forgot to roll

>For but a moment the tanker would have a grip upon him.
>But in thame second that follows, Malak would give a powerful elbow to the man's face, before throwing him off and against the wall.

GET OFF OF ME!!! YOU HAVE NO REASON TO PROTECT THIS VILE FOLLOWER OF SLANESSH!

>wanders back in with a combustion device (lighter) and halts to watch Malak wrestle with the daemon.

"Maybe they will send nurses if this keeps up and the med section could get restocked. If he were unconscious this wouldn't be happening to -

>He gestures toward Kane

- it.

>Reads a book at the airlock of the still docked ship, Lady of Spectoris, waiting for orders, visitors or permission to depart.

Rolled 15 (1d100)

>he'd groan in pain
"Malak! Control yourself damn you! Are you in there!? Malak!?
>he'd try and push him off

Rolled 32 (1d100)

>He gets slammed into the wall
>His back is sore from the slam
>He groans from the pain

"You idiot!"

>He gets up

"I'm trying to save you both!"

>He rushes at Malak and tries to disarm him of the knife

Rolled 17, 35, 20 = 72 (3d100)

Jeez you idiot! Calm down!
>Oddball and Putin try to pull Malak off Kane, while the other four Crewmen look for something to calm Malak's tits.

First two for pulling, third for drug finding.

>He'd deliver a swift punch to the daemons face in retaliation for trying to throw him off.
>His face and clothes, are covered in Kane's fresh blood, as he continues carving Kane up like a sanguinalla turkey.
>When he speaks, it is through clenched teeth, and a voice filled with anger and hate.

Stop speaking my name you twisted and vile daemonic son of a Whore! I don't know who the hell you are, but you are no allie of mine!

You speak only to confuse my comrades against your vile taint, and to put my loyalty to the Imperium into question!

Rolled 12 (1d20)

>He'd merely throw them off of him, as he continues to try and send the daemon tranbo to warp.

STOP FIGHTING ME, AND HELP ME KILL THIS DAEMON!!!

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>he'd headbutt for knockout/stun effect
"Remember who you are! You are not a tin man, damn you!"

>He is sent flying off the daemon, and unto the floor. His vision is shaky, and he can't see or think straight.
>While he may not br unconscious, this is more than enough time for the others to grapple, and hold him down.

Rolled 33 (1d100)

"Help me hold him down!"

>He tries to hold Malak down

Rolled 32, 99 = 131 (2d100)

>Oddball and Putin are indeed thrown off him, and knocked on their ass.
>However, Malak being knocked on -his- own ass gives the other four time to mob him.

Rolled 80 (1d100)

"Easier without a knife in his hands except he's slick from the blood."

>makes an attempt to grab the collar of his outfit and drag him into the hangar.

>He is pressed firmly to the deck plates. His movements restricted by the vast amount if weight forces upon him.
>Despite this, he'd still try to struggle, and worm his way out from under them.
>Sadly for him, too no avail.

G-Get...off of...ugh! ---Me!! You'll let... ugh! The daemon get.... ugh! Away!

>Oddball and Putin pile on as well.
>There are now Six Hammerhead Crewmen and Jaemis keeping him pinned.
What's up with you you moron? Can you not remember any of us or anything?

"The hell did they do to you in training!?"

>He continues to hold him down

>he'd search his pockets and he would take out a small, blue vial
"Give him this...this should calm him down at least..."

>a combustion device falls to the floor and clatters some.

>He continues to try and shake the six(seven?) People off of him.
>Unfortunately, hundreds of pounds of weight isn't exactly easy to push off of ones self. Hence, image is struck struggling.

There's a... Ugh! DAEMON here... and you call me a moron!? GAAAH!

>He continues to struggle to no avail.

And I've ...ugh! Never met you people in my- GAAAH! LIFE!

not sure how exactly this works with upwards of 1000 pounds of people on him. Also, could someone give this guy the discord?

discord.gg/83Zvx one of us one of us one of us

"What the hell, Malak! Don't your remember when we went out drinking that time after you got demoted!? Don't you remember the shit we went through when you were commander!? Don't you remember a emperor-damned thing!?"

What do you mean you don't know us you tosser? We've all been your buddies for ages.

>At this point he's doing everything he possibly can to get them off him.

I've never gone drinking with any of you! And I've certainly never been an Officer!

The highest I ever made was Sergeant. And that was a few months before Inquisitor Laraques decided to sponsor me for the Tempestus Scion program right after Somerius!

I don't know who you people are!

>He keeps struggling, his eyes vision dead set, and filled with rage towards the bimbo daemon before him.

I've been at a Tempestus Scion training camp ever since Somerius! And I damn well never met any of you there! Now let! Me! GO!

>Grits his teeth in frustration

"Were not letting you go and hurt someone just because you cant remember shit! Can you at least calm down so we can explain everything!?"

I'm not hurting anybody! I'm hurting a filthy, and vile daemon!

You absolutely damned well have not, you've been stuck with us muppets the whole time and we can prove it too.

"Remember Kerg!? Kerg, boy! Think! Kerg!"

>His eye flinches as the mentioning of Kerg, and for him, a vision of ... something, appears within his minds eye. But he otherwise makes no indication of knowing what you're talking about.

Quiet you filthy daemon!

You can't fool me! You're a filthy daemon worshipping heretic! I know where I've been, and what I've done! You can't trick me!

"Kerg...Sternbridge...Vic...hell, Ron even! Do these names mean nothing to you!?"

Okay, A, we don't worship Daemons, B, you don't know diddly, and C, only person tricking you is yourself. Because we have video and audio of you hanging about with us during the time you claim you were in training.

>He doesn't seem to react to any of these names... not until you mention Ron.

DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK INQUISITOR RON LAROQUE'S NAME, DAEMON!

Any evidence you have can be forged! But if you want to prove you don't worship daemons, then let me go so I can KILL THAT ONE!

The state of a person's mind can be forged too.
Unlike our proof, yours isn't genuine.

Oh and we tried killing him. All we achieved was a waste of ammo.

>He remains silent for a moment, but continues to struggle for a few moments, before all together stoping.
>Weither this is from exhaustion, or something else, one can't be too sure. But he does indeed stop.

... if you have proof... than show me...