Field Kit Inspection: It Ain't My Fault Edition

Stick close and form up, men! Neat and orderly, just the way I like it!

Now then, I know that it has been quite some time, since you all last received jungle death world survival training. As such, I have good news for you all. As you can clearly see all around you, this is most definitely, a jungle death world! As such, you may all consider our stay here, a refresher course on the matter.

At any rate, Segmentum Command has ordered us to this world to retrieve... Something... They weren't exactly clear on the matter. But I'm sure that with our skills, and a little blessing from the Emperor, we'll be able to find and retrieve it, in his glorious name!

Now then, with that being said, and considering there are no vicious predators, or man eating plants the size of a Leman Russ battle tank around us, I believe that now would be a great time to take a break, while commiting ourselves to a mandatory fielding kit inspection.

As such, all guardsmen! Present arms and equipment for a Field Kit Inspection!

>Welcome to ''Field Kit Inspection", home of the 'Unknown Regiment". Feel free to join in! Remember though, we tend to use spoilers for OOC chat, while greentexts for are used for describing a character's actions. D20s are for combat checks and d100s for other things you wish to roll, with higher being better.

Other urls found in this thread:

youtube.com/watch?v=EbI0cMyyw_M
twitter.com/NSFWRedditImage

Brutus have... hammer!
Bigger big.... Brutus..!

Third Company, reporting in! I took the liberty of sending a few of my men to scout ahead, a few moments ago.

Other than an abundance of man eating birds, the size of Hercules half trucks, that shoot out poisoned barbs the size of a man's arm, and are capable of slicing through Leman Russ armour plating. There isn't much else ahead that could kill us.

Oh course honorable commissar, may I ask what the planet is called exactly?
Yes honorable Brutus, here's you hammer
>Gives a power hammer two times bigger tha his previous one

I have the most heinous fucking swamp ass, holy fuck. Why do I keep following you onto those dropships

BRUTUS SMASH!

Reporting f-for duty, sir.
>his voxcaster appears to be tuned to a local radio station
>this is playing loudly
youtube.com/watch?v=EbI0cMyyw_M

Have you seen the size of our paper work? If we didn't constantly bring you along, we would in all likelihood, buried in it, on a constant basis.

On the plus side, don't you get hazard pay?

I get paid?

What is a... pay?

>a man drops from the trees and lands next to the commissar his knife pointed in the groups genral direction, he seems to bear a resembleance to another trooper from somewhere........

you sir? me scout. me do scouting.

>the guardsman keeps his knife in a fighters grip

Why little bird.... so mean...?

Rolled 55 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

*would construct a fortress around the man*

Jungle death world... I see.
CHARLIE SQUAD, PRESENT AND ACOUNTED FOR, SIR!
ALRIGHT YOU YELLOW JENNY JUMPERS, WERE ON FOOT FROM HERE ON IN!
DISMOUNT THE MISSILE LAUNCHER, AND WERE LEGGIN IT! JUM
TO!

>Matthias would let out a groan.
>It was going to be a LOOOOOONG day...

Yes adept, you get paid. Don't you fill out your own pay stubs?

This, I should have expected...

These aren't little birds... They're the size of a Tank.
>He would be about to point to a tank, but would stop himself from doing so. Knowing the the hybrid would interpret it as "the tank is the giant killer bird, kill it!".

Let's just say, it's as tall as two men, standing atop each other, and four times as wide.

Emperor's throne, van Kleez. Your taste in music is terrible. Where in the throne do you find this sort of music?

loud. loud and stupid, draw preditor

>the nimble trooper climbs back into his tree and begins leaping from branch to branch around the camp

I kill... tall men?
BRUTUS SMASH... BIRD MEN?

>the man stuffs payslips made out to himself with a considerable amount of digits on them into his briefcase
U-uhhh... no?

>A bird the size of a Leman Russ battle tank, would swoop down, and grab the logs that Brutus was using to build his little fortress, everytime he went to place one down.

>The bird that had been tearing his fortress apart, would sit atop a massive tree and look down at him.
>It would seem to be laughing at him.
>CAW! CAW! CAAAAW!"

...why do they take those logs?

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>jumping on the back of the bird from his nesting place of the trees, iu begin stabbing at it, safely nestled on the back of its neck

die bird of the empra

Rolled 8 (1d20)

*brutus would lob his hammer, "big Brutus" at the bird in order to kill it*

>The bird would let out caws of pain as the knife slices through it's flesh.
>Wait... Is it getting bigger...?
>Yeah, it's getting bigger.
>I think it might Explode.... You'd better roll a d100, to see if you can escape the explosion.

>Matthias would merely roll his eyes at this.

Whatever... As long as everyone else gets their proper pay, I don't care what you pay yourself.

Excellent idea, Sergeant! We can use the missile to signal for help, if we ever get lost! Which of course we won't, as I am great with directions!

Rolled 8 (1d100)

>the man cackles and stabs again before jumping

dead bird

>The bird would caw loudly, sucking it gases with each breath it takes. Causing it's body to grow to absurd proportions before...

>"CAW~!"

>The bird would explode into a shower of gore and red and blue paste.
>It's unlikely that he survived such a thing

Rolled 60 (1d100)

>rolling to survive

bird is a.........

>The necron steps out of the landing craft and is instantly covered from head to toe in viscera.
>One of his eyes flicks to a deeper shade of green for a split second, before returning to normal

nasty bitch

>mostly dead

>Will die in three posts if not for a good roll of the medics

Oh goody...
>Gets covered in guts
Victor get there and bring me any claws the bird has left behind

Rolled 30 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>Illya would attempt to stabilize the man.
>-10 due to the explosion ripping him apart.

Rolled 43 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

*would build a fortress around the hospitalier*

Rolled 94 (1d100)

night night sister

>the wreak of a man does not seem to comprehend he is in fact dying......scratch that dead

>he lies back smiling and goes still

[rolling to see if all of you are struck dumb by his stupidity/ "bravery"]

*brutus would already be dumb*

>For a few moments after the "goreslosion", the jungle would remain silent. As if it were in mourning for the life that had been lost.
>Then it would fill with caws, and the buzzing of poisonous insects the size of baseball's and basketballs.

it means stare at him not beliving I'm that stupid

not litteraly dumb idiot

>Another bird would swoop down, and grab each of the logs, that Brutus was a
Using the build the fortress.

I don't get it

Wow, what a retard.
I'm hungry

>Illya would frown, before taking his dog tags from around his neck, before closing his eyes.

Good night...

hmm...what a shame, yes.
>Loots his knife

Check if he had any snacks

Rolled 27 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

*brutus would fill all of his construction materials with explosives*
*brutus would build a fortress*

>The bird would once more swoop down, and grab the logs, before tossing them away, to expose harmlessly in the forest.
>"CAW."

>Knochenmus would smile at the sight.

Good thinking, men! Salvage whatever you can from the poor man, and then prepare to move out!

Rolled 5, 1, 7, 4, 6, 8, 7, 7, 4, 1, 7, 3, 1, 4, 8, 7, 6, 9, 8, 5, 1, 10, 3, 2, 10 = 134 (25d10)

*brutus would coat his building materials in fire*
*brutus would build a fortress*

>Apparently Brutus had burned himself alive...?

Rolled 25 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

*i fucked up the roll*
*roll to build a fortress*

>The bird would continue to outsmart the hybrid everytime he tried something, when building his fortress. Tearing it apart, everytime he attempted to build it.
>It would also laugh at his stupidity.

>at this point, the Commissar would stand up, and begin shouting.

Alright men! Break is over! Let's move out!

Well this is going to take some time...
Oh honorable Commissar, where exactly are we going?

*brutus would grab some rations from kleez' locker and feed them to the birds*

Where... we go... boss?

Where ever my gut tells us to go, trooper! We shall retrieve this important object, and bring glory to both ourselves, and the Imperium!

Oh course honorable commissar
*inner thought: Great, he doesn't know what we have to search for and what it even is*

Can we... take the... chimaera?

Do we even know what we're here for? Or are we going to do something really stupid and inane, like last time we were sent to get something?

>Vu Chen emerges from a copse of trees, wiping sweat off his brow
I can lead us, milord.

Tiny man...

We've never done anything insane, nor stupid! Only tactical genius ever leaves my brain, trooper. And I trust my gut, just as you should! I knows what it's doing.

No, trooper! You'll walk, just like everyone else! The chimeras are for battle only. The Hercules half trucks as well.

This way, gentlemen!

>The Commissar would begin leading the regiment through the massive jungles.

Very well, Corporal! Lead the way.

*brutus would follow, destroying every tree within a metre of the path he walked with his hammer*

Roger that, commissar.
>he leads through the jungle, occasionally giving survival tips

>Nods
>Hooded figure begins to follow the Commissar
Honorable scribe, would you like to bet that this planet will end up getting an exterminatus?

I bet... 60%... of van kleez...

>After standing still for the past 5 minutes covered in birb guts, the Necron suddenly comes to action, marching after the group

Excellent

Hold the f-fuck up, that's not *cough* excellent. Not excellent at all.

Why... that...?

>Slaps him on the shoulder a little too hard
Roll with it my man, roll with it.
Yo, I bet the other 40%

Weren't 30% already owned by Illya?

Who owns anything, really? Besides, what was she gonna do with him anyway?

Honorable scribe, you know exactly what she'll do with him

Exactly, therefore I believe that he is being mistreated, and I should contact the correct authorities. And, by the power of the most holy God-Emperor of Mankind, that is me.
>Signs several forms
The property known as "Kleez, Van" has now been requisitioned by the Adeptus Administratum
>Stamps the man on the forehead with a wax seal

>fanned out, compas and map held by the seargent.
Oi now! It hot it is! I could do with some rain, right boys?
>grumbling
Thats the spirit!

>The two would both feel a cold hand on their shoulders.
>Turning around, they would find Illya, smiling at both of them.

What are you two talking about...

Paperwork

Bussiness

We are betting... van kleez... to an... alien...

>The young Captain would place a hand upon his shoulder, as he walks by him.

Cheer up, ol' chap! At the very least, you'll be going to a better home than you have now.

>He would jog up the Chen, his voice a barely audible whisper, as he speaks

Don't take tthisthe wrong way, or as Mr Being a pessimist. But what do you consider the odds of survival for most of these guys? I'm guessing pretty damn low, personally. But they have been known to survive, the worst this galaxy has to throw at us.

>Yelling
WE CAN STILL HEAR YOU. DICK.

>Despite her smile, she doesn't look very happy at their replies.

Well... Which is it? Aliens, slavery, or paperwork?

All... of the... above...
By the way... who owns... the other... 30% of... kleez?

All of the above

All three for me are business honorable Illya, and nobody forced them to bet Van Kleez
Illya

This math... hurts my... head...

We aren't doing math

Right then hospitaller! Cheer yourself up some! Were all in service to the God Emperor, aint we boys?
>general chorus of yeahs

Oh.. good...
I can't read...

I know

I can't say for sure, I don't know what we're fighting.

Can you read.....
What's... it like...?

Uhh... hearing but with your eyes I guess.

Can any... of you... read... with your.... ears?

>looking at one another
>trooper veskon:
What?

You get... your ears....
and read.... with them...?
Yes?

>While walking takes out a tablet
>Types something into it
>Takes out a remote
>Remote beeps
>Nods
>Places tablet and remote inside his robe

>takes headset from vox
Naw man, here, this is what you do with your ears
>pust headset on brutas
>changes frequency to make a squealing noise
>minimal volume, barely audible