Field Kit Inspection: Ecclesiastical Sheep part II Edition

Abhor the Night, it is the Light that Endures!
Praise be to the emperor!
>coughing and wheezing

>As soon as the ashen faced man slides off the large creature, he crashes down onto the floor, barely able to support his body weight with his legs

My, are you okay honorable citizen?

...

You are welcome for the lift by the way.
First half of the flight is free of charge!

>the man simply stares at the strange creatures before him with mild bemusement, likely due to starvation and trauma

No but seriously I am charging you.
50 thrones mon'kleigh, pay up.

Hmm you seem hungry,yes.
>Puls something out of his robes
I can sell you this nutrient bar for your pen, yes
Deal?

*muttering to himself*
Well well well, she killed another one...

> The sister would be saddened by the man's loss, and would have someone write out the forms to have his medal sent to his family, alongside his pension.

>After having finished with another surgery. Illya would make her way over towards sister Benedictine.

Sister? Are you alright?
>Her voice is warm and kind as she speaks to her.

That's quite a nasty cough you have there. Would you want me to take a look for you?

Bets people, will sister Illya kill Benedictine?
Bets are 3 to 1 against her killing and 2 to 1 for her killing Benedictine

>the man stares at the two loud, foreign creatures from behind his broken glasses, before his arms give in and he falls from a sitting position to a prone one, staring at the sky
H-how's the city?

Oh honored citizen, it's at the state of war against the forces of chaos, yes.
Will you buy nutrient bar?

Well I'm fairly certain I detonated the planetary government building with my mind and I'm also pretty sure that the city is rubble.
Why do you ask?

>the man reaches into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a fountain pen, with a small aquila engraved on it in gold. The nib is slightly bent, and it's leaking an ink that's so blue it's practically glowing

>Looks at the broken pen
Hmm that'll do
>Gives the nutrient bar

HEY BOLTER FEMALE MON'KLEIGH I RESPECT.
WE GOT A SHELLSHOCKED CIVVIE OVER HERE

It's nothing, I'm fine, you handle your duties, I handle mine, Emperor's blessings to you sister.

*nametag*

>She would frown at the sister's words.

My duties, are to ensure that everyone is healthy, and stitch them back together if they're not.

>she would flash her a warm smile.

And that includes you, Sister. Now come. It won't hurt, I promise.

>the man takes that bar and simply holds it

Eldar you bettin' whether she kills sister or not?

My helmet says she does not kill her.
Nobody can be that incompetent.

>Writes on a full paper with a binch of names
Excellent

You must have plenty more to take care of, I don't wish to bother you with something so trivial, besides I already told you it's nothing, I'm fine
>Benedictine takes another deep huff through her re-breather and adjusts her footing, before attempting to walk off again

*Whispers under his breath*
Just fuck already...

Deadxenosaidwhat?
>the dominion sister's finger was dangerously close to the trigger of her stormbolter, scratching at the handle as she ached for an enemy to kill

Rolled 1 (1d100)

>She would sigh, before grasping the other sister by here power armored hand, and dragging her towards the field hospital.

No excuses. Everyone gets a checkup, including you.
>Rolling for check-up
(Again, if you haven't joined our discord, you really should. discord.gg/ygJdq

>And the exhaustion would kick in, before they've gotten anywhere near the Hospital. Causing her to fall to the ground in a heap.
>Spending three days doing nothing but stitching up guardsmen, and implanting bionic replacements, isn't good for your health.

*whispers under his breath*
That seems like an unlikely cop out...
But at least I keep my helmet

*whispers*
Nah, that means I take everything, but you eldar can keep your helmet and 100 thrones if you keep everyone who betted distracted

No.

>the dominion sister sighs, grabbing the sister hospitaller and carrying her to the infirmiary, leaving the unconscious nurse there, before getting back to heavy breathing and scanning the horizon with anticipation
>with the occasional cough and wheeze interrupting her menacing borderline-asthmatic heavy filtered breathing

*chucks a large bucket of water mixed with a bottle labelled "sea men, do not touch" he found in the fridge onto the hospitalier to wake her up"
*runs off*

>The Catachan would now become apparent to the unknown regiment

>The man would be 9 feet tall, carrying an autocannon and a rocket launcher, along with a full bandoleer of Krak grenades.

>One of his fuck huge arms would be a giant powerfist, and on his side would be a giant machete, which itself was 5 feet long

>The Catachan would have a huge cigar in his mouth, puffing away smoke

Reportin' for duty, boss.

I find it completely inexplicable that I have never noticed you before.

S-son?

I foind' it inexplicable that you haven't been liftin' weights to get some meat on those spindly arms, son.

I don't, I have snuggles for that.

Who the frak is snuggles?

>Staggering out of a nearby transport, some farmboy with a big, stupid grin on his face drops his regulation gear and salutes the Commissar.

Private Murphi, reportin' fer duty, Sir! Ah reckon ah could rustle us up some form of trouble if'n y'all need me to.

*points towards the giant,levitating insect feasting off of unused rations in the corner*

Oi' see.
Allow me to git' moi' pet.
>I'd whistle for Windsor
Windsor! C'mere boy!

>A fuckin' big dinosaur would rush into the room, to look at the corsair prince

I have no response to this.

>The Praetorian captain would raise a brow at the man's accent.

Weve just finished dealing with trouble, trooper. But that shouldn't stop you from doing your job.

>The redneckish Guardsman salutes the captain in confirmation
Well, shucks, ah guess ah should've got 'ere sooner then... Oh well, guess ah'll find me some scrap and make a still for some brew.

>Picking up his gear, he wanders around the general area, still smiling that stupid smile of his. The optimistic bastard.

Hey why did we abandon the city anyway?
Did we win or did you guys not pull your weight mon'kleigh?

>Matthias would raise a questioning brow as he watches the man walk away.
(If you haven't joined our discord, I would highly recommend doing so.
discord.gg/xmZm9

>the radio come in full of static and heavy Knight fire
Come in *static* -rd company. *chaingun fire* -odfry immobilized in *static* -ket square. We're at the push point whe- *demonic laughing followed by the crackle of a powerfist* the flying fuck is the armored elements and support troops. *another larg blast followed by static* -ciena focous that Demolisher with the missils!

Wow. I never knew powerfists crackled.
My mind is open

>Matthias would check his vox bead. Attempting to clear it up if he can.

This is company command. Please repeat. I say again, please
Repeat. Over.

Sounds like time for my epic heroics!
SNUGGLES, AWAY!

We got orders to push to ma-
>more chaingun fire
-are and wait for push orders.
>theres a few plasma shots before a blast
Fuck! I need a new pistol. I think they're trying to push again. Did you get our coordinates? Command should have ordered you there as well.

*Zooming towards the location*

No, the entire regiment was ordered to pull back, and allow the rest if the army to push forward.
>He would already be boarding a valkyire dropship.

Listen, I'm on my way. Can you hold out until I arrive to pick you both up?

I HAVE ARRIVED WHAT IS THE ISSUE

>the cityscape grows denser, an obvious path of bullet hell destruction that the knight went rampaging on, ending at a massive square with makeshift defenses scattered about and a knight on one knee with half a crumbled building on top of it, still rapidly firing away, a techpriestess hurriedly trying to clear it's backside as Rias squashes another mans head in her fist, several burning wrecks littering the entryways

Rolled 84 (1d100)

*roll to telekinetically lift rubble*

>A squadron of Valkyire gunships would arrive on the scene at this point. Heavy bolters flaireing as they fire away at traitor infantry.

>Leaning out the door of a Valkyrie, he fires indiscriminately into the horde of traitors
If'n they run, they're heretics. If'n they stand still, they're well dissiplin'd heretics!

Two sets of ropes would be lowered down. Each one carrying a set of repelling bodies. One of a Praetorian, and the other ,of a nearly nine foot tall space marine scout.

Lieutenant, Magos! Are you alright?

>Matthias would fire off a few shots at a nearby traitor guardsmen. Putting him down for the count.

Good. Once it's clear i guess we'll pull back. Deamons keep coming from that theater and I can't leave to clear it out.

Thanks! Can you rocket the surrounding buildings?!?

>meanwhile, Sergeant Rook is more or less in her element: that is, knee deep in the scraps of a traitor guard's tank and cutting another one down to similiar size.

>The Techpriest would walk up towards the regiment with his many mechanicus apendages dangling around

Greetings my newly assigned regiment!

Rolled 79 (1d100)

*roll to collapse the buildings roofs*

>Matthias would nod, as he hits his vox bead.

Ptolomios two, I need rockets on those nearby buildings, over.

>"Understood Captain. We'll send em running."
>After a moment, several bright flashes would appear from underneath their wings, as rockets fly out towards their targets.
>A half a second later, various debris is all that's left of the buildings, and their current occupants.

Honestly, Darling. This just isn't a good enough neighbourhood for us to raise a family in. Far too much hanger scum around here.

We're fine. Just get those approches collapsed so we can get the knight back.

>far back at the base, the government official's eye twitches slightly, as if he can sense somebody shit-talking his city

>His boltgun flaireing with each shot. He would walk over towards, and would assist the diminutive magos.

C'mon. We've been given the order to pull back. You two were way out of your league here.

All right rubbles clear of the knight.
Just make it stand up now.

"That's a spiffy plane you got Captain. Is it up for pick ups? I've been, uhm... busy here".

>Matthias would pause for a moment, as his vox bead beeps inside his ear.
Company command, go ahead.
>This is ptolomios three. I've got eyes on a heavy armor column making their way towards us, Captain. I'm counting atleast five squadrons of tanks, and atleast a platoon of infantry on the way. Probably mo-
>The pot is cut off, as it's cockpit crumples and explodes from a sudden impact. Causing the rest of it to go crashing down into a nearby building.

Shit!

"So that's a no...? Alright... looking at the bright side, I didn't make plans for the evening."

>He would nod his head, before handing her the rope.

Best hold on, Sergeant.

>He would flash her a quick smile.

Otherwise you'll be dealing with a dislocated shoulder.

We don't have time for that, Darling. We need to move, Now.

>the burnt-up sergeant shoudlers her meltagun and grabs the rope.
I've done worst. For once, the vehicle wasn't a flying one.

>Rias looks as if she is about to argue, but keeps quiet, as she grabs hold of the rope.

All right all of this shits clear fuck this job is stressful go reverse the knight or some shit

>Once everyone had grabbed hold of the rope, Matthias would motion for them to be pulled up. The line quickly ascending towards ptolomios two.
>Not a second sooner were they ascending, than a cannon shell would explode under them, from the approaching tank squadrons.
>The two remaining Valkyries would be quick to pull back, and begin flying back to the FOB.
(Helga, I really do suggest you come join us over in discord, if you haven't already. discord.gg/ShuSr

Rolled 17, 20, 3 = 40 (3d20)

>Before he can get too far, several Leman Russ executioners, would begin firing their gatling guns towards the flying bug/daemon, and it's space elf rider.

Rolled 19, 6, 4, 3, 20, 17, 2, 18, 1 = 90 (9d20)

>The rest of the tanks would begin. Opening fire upon the escaping Valkyires

>Meanwhile back at the base the humble stryx merchant is selling las rifles and power packs, also some lick charms
I wonder where everyone else go.
Honorable citizen, would you like to purchase a las rifle, or las pistol?

>the sergeant sighs as she watches the battle behind
I could have totally taken three more of those tanks...
>she has lost quite a bit of armor and, perhaps most noticeably, a good chunk of her hair

DAMN SNUGGLES IS INJURED
ITS ALLRIGHT BOY, WERE OUTTA HERE!

>the man sticks his head out from the cocoon of standard issue blankets and spare coats he constructed himself, slowly shaking his head

>Before the Valkyries could get very far. They would both take hits from various Leman Russ weaponry.
>Malak would let out a loud string of curses, as the valkyire he and the others were on, would go down.
>"THIS IS PTOLOMIOS ONE! WE'RE GOING DOWN!"
>"THIS IS PTOLOMIOS TWO. IM UNDER FIRE, AND AM GOING DOWN! MAYDAY! MAYDAY!"

I guess not honorable citizen
Say honorable Krux, your fine beast could use a saddle and armour, yes?

Rolled 67 (1d100)

BRACE FOR IMPACT!

>With these words. Matthias would grab hold of something, before his dropship goes down. Crashing into a build.
>Rolling for how bad the crash is.

*flying over to the crash site, out of sight of the tanks*

>the sergeant comes out of the the wreck after a few seconds, missing her flamer and laspistol and looking even more ragged
Worst saving ride ever.

>Matthias would blink a few times.
>There was a soft ringing in his ears.
>Was he dead?
>No. That burning pain running through his entire body said otherwise.
>Good. Pain meant that you were still alive.
>And being alive, meant that he wasn't that far from the chaos lines. Those tanks would be here any moment.
Matthias would stand up at this point. His every muscle aching and burning, in an attempt to keep him down.

Is *cough* is everyone alright? Speak up!