@Sarpedon@StoneWolf@agentmanatee
The Deathwatch, the Ordo Militant and fighting arm of the Ordos Xenos of the Emperor's Holy Inquisition; your latest assignment.
For good or for ill you have been seconded to 'The Watch', for you are one of the best of your Chapter, though you have seen the records or heard that of all those seconded to the Death Watch - maybe one-in-eight returning from the their secondment alive.
You each remember with utmost clarity that your secondment to the 'Watch' is one of secrecy, one that has seen you board one of the Inquisition's own ships to take you far from you from your chapter, your home-world and your battle-brothers to fight along side those from others; some familiar and even friendly toward you, some hostile and with grudges to bear, but all soon to be your closest allies in times of conflict and war.
Aboard the Inquisitorial ship you are not told your destination by its Captain, though you seem to find that the Navigators of the Inquisition are of the same stock - if not far more attuned to their Warp-born abilities - than those aboard Astartes ships. Within two weeks you find yourself at a 'Watch-Fortress' - a vast orbital ring clearly of inhuman creation, though long since taken over by the Adeptus Mechanicus for the purpose of training and housing those Astartes sent to the Deathwatch.
Should you inquire of the Captain of the ship you are on (feel free to make up the Captain's name, the ship having no given name that you know of) that there are six 'Watch-Fortresses' scattered throughout about the Imperium, though the location of each is known only by the Inquisition themselves and the Navigators of the ships in thd bowels of which you now temporarily reside; given what you know of the Deathwatch you may or may not believe it to be a reasonable answer.
After disembarking with the belongings that you brought with you - the Watch allowing you to bring your armour, weapons, and any personal tokens with you from your original chapter - it is over the course of three to four days that each of you arrive, although you remain confined to the inside of your Thunderhawk transports for a further three days, before finally being authorised to disembark from these smaller vessels as well.
Your transports open their landing-ramps almost simultaneously, disgorging each of you into one of the numerous hangers within the extensive void docks of the Watch Fortress, in which a dozen Imperial Navy capital ships or Adeptus Astartes Battle Barges could be docked and resupplied at the same time. However, most vessels that come to the Watch Fortress are smaller starships such as the Deathwatch’s rapid strike vessels or the occasional vessel bearing a visiting dignitary. The docks are crewed by legions of Combat Servitors and ratings that are supervised by human serfs who are oath-bonded to serve the Deathwatch all their lives, and it is packs of these which you now see as you take leave of what could well be termed your 'imprisonment'.
You leave the metal cages of the Thunderhawks for the first time in a week, clad only in the robes, fatigues or non-combat dress of your respective Chapters, and armed with nothing but your own fists - your suits of armour and your weapons wheeled directly past you and into the wider hanger, where swarms of blank-faced Servitors and their mortal supervisors go about their business regardless of your presence, only for these precious items to soon disappear into the less illuminated gloom of the hangers rearmost edge. The sound of lifts and the hydraulic hiss of doors opening and shutting can be distinctly heard coming from that direction, although even the superhuman eyesight of an Astartes is unable to make out what lurks within those shadows.
As you take in your surroundings - an enclosed metallic hanger of blinking lights and the beep of instruments ever at work, large enough to house a small fleet of Thunderhawks, high enough to fit a standing Titan into, and with enough servants to populate a small colony - you make out the broad figure of one who can only be another Space Marine emerging from the shadows.
Armoured in the deathly black of the Deathwatch, one shoulder bearing the silver colour, skull, and the =][= of the Inquisition upon it, strides a towering warrior of the Blood Angels Chapter. Clearly visible upon his other shoulder pauldron is the black wings and ruby droplet of blood upon a red field, and there can truly be no doubt as to his origins. Yet what marks him out from others, as he nears you and you are able to detect every detail of his form, is the grinning skull of a helmet looking mockingly back at you, the rosarius in the shape of a cross draped about his neck, and the crozius hanging mag-locked to his waist. Indeed, those red and baleful eyes of the helmet judging each and every one of you, there can be no doubt that this is the Astartes sent to meet you and to deem you worthy or not of joining the Watch.
"Welcome," he intoned in a voice that held the utmost authority, "to Watch-Fortress Ebanon."
For one silent moment he looks each of you up and down - weighing your devotion, testing your nerve, and deciding your fates.
"You have each been bought here from your former Chapters of your own free will," his eyes then seemed to bore into those of the Marine named 'Lakon' - a warrior that had actually been picked up from a drifting wreck by the Watches vessel, already having been seen by the Watch-Commander during his time aboard the Thunderhawk - knowing that for some this might not be the case, "but you are each here now, brothers, and through your service to the Deathwatch you shall rise above others to become more proficient in the art of war than you had ever dreamt...believe me when I tell you, until now you have faced nothing...nothing like that which lurks in the darkest recesses of the Imperium's fringe. You soon will though."
With a slight hiss of air, and a pop of released pressure, a face was revealed that could be called perfect in every way; the long and angular face of the Chaplain would have been considered angelic by any normal human, but perhaps could be described as 'vampiric' as well, for it was as if carved from flawless white marble - smooth and unmarred by either scar of blemish of ill health - eyes of almost hypnotic blue looking into those of each Astartes before him, his shimmering golden locks reaching down to his shoulders.
It was a handsome face that more than a few allies and enemies had judged as one of an effeminate weakling, oh but how wrong they had been.
"Present yourselves now; name, rank and Chapter. After that I shall show you to your quarters. Any questions you may have will also be answered, if permissible."
The voice which he used was barely any higher than the bass-amplified mouth of his helmet, the tone demanding respect and one of a fighting man that would allow no disrespect or indiscipline from anyone.
The Deathwatch, the Ordo Militant and fighting arm of the Ordos Xenos of the Emperor's Holy Inquisition; your latest assignment.
For good or for ill you have been seconded to 'The Watch', for you are one of the best of your Chapter, though you have seen the records or heard that of all those seconded to the Death Watch - maybe one-in-eight returning from the their secondment alive.
You each remember with utmost clarity that your secondment to the 'Watch' is one of secrecy, one that has seen you board one of the Inquisition's own ships to take you far from you from your chapter, your home-world and your battle-brothers to fight along side those from others; some familiar and even friendly toward you, some hostile and with grudges to bear, but all soon to be your closest allies in times of conflict and war.
Aboard the Inquisitorial ship you are not told your destination by its Captain, though you seem to find that the Navigators of the Inquisition are of the same stock - if not far more attuned to their Warp-born abilities - than those aboard Astartes ships. Within two weeks you find yourself at a 'Watch-Fortress' - a vast orbital ring clearly of inhuman creation, though long since taken over by the Adeptus Mechanicus for the purpose of training and housing those Astartes sent to the Deathwatch.
Should you inquire of the Captain of the ship you are on (feel free to make up the Captain's name, the ship having no given name that you know of) that there are six 'Watch-Fortresses' scattered throughout about the Imperium, though the location of each is known only by the Inquisition themselves and the Navigators of the ships in thd bowels of which you now temporarily reside; given what you know of the Deathwatch you may or may not believe it to be a reasonable answer.
After disembarking with the belongings that you brought with you - the Watch allowing you to bring your armour, weapons, and any personal tokens with you from your original chapter - it is over the course of three to four days that each of you arrive, although you remain confined to the inside of your Thunderhawk transports for a further three days, before finally being authorised to disembark from these smaller vessels as well.
Your transports open their landing-ramps almost simultaneously, disgorging each of you into one of the numerous hangers within the extensive void docks of the Watch Fortress, in which a dozen Imperial Navy capital ships or Adeptus Astartes Battle Barges could be docked and resupplied at the same time. However, most vessels that come to the Watch Fortress are smaller starships such as the Deathwatch’s rapid strike vessels or the occasional vessel bearing a visiting dignitary. The docks are crewed by legions of Combat Servitors and ratings that are supervised by human serfs who are oath-bonded to serve the Deathwatch all their lives, and it is packs of these which you now see as you take leave of what could well be termed your 'imprisonment'.
You leave the metal cages of the Thunderhawks for the first time in a week, clad only in the robes, fatigues or non-combat dress of your respective Chapters, and armed with nothing but your own fists - your suits of armour and your weapons wheeled directly past you and into the wider hanger, where swarms of blank-faced Servitors and their mortal supervisors go about their business regardless of your presence, only for these precious items to soon disappear into the less illuminated gloom of the hangers rearmost edge. The sound of lifts and the hydraulic hiss of doors opening and shutting can be distinctly heard coming from that direction, although even the superhuman eyesight of an Astartes is unable to make out what lurks within those shadows.
As you take in your surroundings - an enclosed metallic hanger of blinking lights and the beep of instruments ever at work, large enough to house a small fleet of Thunderhawks, high enough to fit a standing Titan into, and with enough servants to populate a small colony - you make out the broad figure of one who can only be another Space Marine emerging from the shadows.
Armoured in the deathly black of the Deathwatch, one shoulder bearing the silver colour, skull, and the =][= of the Inquisition upon it, strides a towering warrior of the Blood Angels Chapter. Clearly visible upon his other shoulder pauldron is the black wings and ruby droplet of blood upon a red field, and there can truly be no doubt as to his origins. Yet what marks him out from others, as he nears you and you are able to detect every detail of his form, is the grinning skull of a helmet looking mockingly back at you, the rosarius in the shape of a cross draped about his neck, and the crozius hanging mag-locked to his waist. Indeed, those red and baleful eyes of the helmet judging each and every one of you, there can be no doubt that this is the Astartes sent to meet you and to deem you worthy or not of joining the Watch.
"Welcome," he intoned in a voice that held the utmost authority, "to Watch-Fortress Ebanon."
For one silent moment he looks each of you up and down - weighing your devotion, testing your nerve, and deciding your fates.
"You have each been bought here from your former Chapters of your own free will," his eyes then seemed to bore into those of the Marine named 'Lakon' - a warrior that had actually been picked up from a drifting wreck by the Watches vessel, already having been seen by the Watch-Commander during his time aboard the Thunderhawk - knowing that for some this might not be the case, "but you are each here now, brothers, and through your service to the Deathwatch you shall rise above others to become more proficient in the art of war than you had ever dreamt...believe me when I tell you, until now you have faced nothing...nothing like that which lurks in the darkest recesses of the Imperium's fringe. You soon will though."
With a slight hiss of air, and a pop of released pressure, a face was revealed that could be called perfect in every way; the long and angular face of the Chaplain would have been considered angelic by any normal human, but perhaps could be described as 'vampiric' as well, for it was as if carved from flawless white marble - smooth and unmarred by either scar of blemish of ill health - eyes of almost hypnotic blue looking into those of each Astartes before him, his shimmering golden locks reaching down to his shoulders.
It was a handsome face that more than a few allies and enemies had judged as one of an effeminate weakling, oh but how wrong they had been.
"Present yourselves now; name, rank and Chapter. After that I shall show you to your quarters. Any questions you may have will also be answered, if permissible."
The voice which he used was barely any higher than the bass-amplified mouth of his helmet, the tone demanding respect and one of a fighting man that would allow no disrespect or indiscipline from anyone.
