SomeChap

Valiant Heroes, Vile Heresies [Warhammer 40,000 Death Watch]

It is better to die for the Emperor than Live for yourself.

(So joining)

@KabenSaal

It would be good to have you along, battle brother.

Valiant Heroes, Vile Heresies [Warhammer 40,000 Death Watch]

My Hider

Valiant Heroes, Vile Heresies [Warhammer 40,000 Death Watch]

The OOC is now up.
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/125529-valiant-heroes-vile-heresies-warhammer-40-000-death-watch/ooc

Valiant Heroes, Vile Heresies [Warhammer 40,000 Death Watch]

You are elite Battle Brothers of the Death Watch, the Chamber Militant of the Ordos Xenos. It is your role to seek out the worst foes that the Imperium may face, and eradicate them utterly. You were once normal Space Marines of your prespective chapters, though since drafted into the Death Watch for showing immense skill at arms, or titanic tacial knowledge.

Your first missions will be harsh, such is the life of the Death Watch, though further action may yet see events unfold...
Remember, even your most fervent of brothers may yet turn to heretical ways...

There shall be four character slots for this RP, as I am aiming for a somewhat smaller group of people, though more can be included if this gains any sort of popularity. More or less ALL of the Death Watch books are avaliable for use should you wish, and do feel free to use your own custom chapters. I would ask, as usual, for people to exercise some consideration towards their fellow RP'ers when it comes to classes and whatnot.

NOTE ABOUT CHARACTERS! - The folio text does not show up when linking it, just screenshot the "Combat Profile" and the "Astertes Profile"

The current members are:
@MaxxRocker
@Natsucooldude
@Al

Valiant Heroes, Vile Heresies [Warhammer 40,000 Death Watch]

Good to see you are all interested. I'll start the creation of the IC today.

Valiant Heroes, Vile Heresies [Warhammer 40,000 Death Watch]

You are elite Battle Brothers of the Death Watch, the Chamber Militant of the Ordos Xenos. It is your role to seek out the worst foes that the Imperium may face, and eradicate them utterly. You were once normal Space Marines of your prespective chapters, though since drafted into the Death Watch for showing immense skill at arms, or titanic tacial knowledge.

Your first missions will be harsh, such is the life of the Death Watch, though further action may yet see events unfold...
Remember, even your most fervent of brothers may yet turn to heretical ways...

There shall be four character slots for this RP, as I am aiming for a somewhat smaller group of people, though more can be included if this gains any sort of popularity. More or less ALL of the Death Watch books are avaliable for use should you wish, and do feel free to use your own custom chapters.

I will say, that this would use a rules-lite system, as in: Not all of the rules will be used and some that are used may be simplified to make things smoother. Rolling will still be a mainstay of combat.

@MaxxRocker @Natsucooldude @Al
You all showed interest in this, if so just give a post here. If not then, well, don't I guess :D

mediafire.com/download/00t6dr80rv0pmmu..
These are the .pdf files of Death Watch. You will need something that can unzip them, if that fails, then I can send you the .pdfs seperately.

mediafire.com/download/ju3dv2uuq9fc39d..
This is the character folio, the acting character sheet.

Grim Darkness, Only War, You Know The Drill.

Due to Eisenhorn's lack of posting, I have given @MaxxRocker the chance to go now.

Ere' we go! Ere' we go! Ere' we go! - WH40K Ork RP [Lookin' for boyz an grotz]

Mek boy 'ere

“Wot do you zoggin' want from me?! Can't ya seem I'z workin' 'ere! Wot ya mean dat Grukk's shoota haz gone missin'?! I ain't took it! Honest az kan be! Even if it did 'ave a proppa nice paint job on it...and dem new kustom gubbin'z...wozn't me though...”

Name: Vurbukk Wrenchsmacka
Species: Ork, bordering near being a Nob.

'Rank'/Type: I'z da Mek boy around 'ere. And if da kurrent one ain't lookin', den I'z gonna be da new Big Mek too...

Age: 30 Terran Years, I'z knockin' on a bit now, boyz...but I'z still kickin' and datz for a reason!”

Klan: Da Deathskulls klan! Kunnin' but brutal we iz!

Appearance: Standing a shade under seven feet tall and with a physique perhaps better suited to cracking skulls than tinkering, Vurbukk is a monstrous looking Ork who has great swathes of his body replaced with various forms of cybork bitz and “bitz da make me betta at me job.”

Of these extensive cybernetics, the most noticeable is the colossal bionic arm which is in place where his right arm should be. The thing is made from various forms of metal, with a ragged and cobbled together appearance and a liberal blue paint job. The hand is akin to the normal Ork hand, though with massive barbed spikes across the knuckles and with a great wheezing piston in place of much of the vital muscle, this combines to give his punches something of a...deadly, edge.

Much of the mek's head, including the left eye (Dem zoggin' oomiez in da tin-kans did it!) seems to have been replaced with unyielding metal plates and bionics. The eye, once a crimson hooded thing, is now an intimidating, glaring bionic one. The work is not neat by any standards, as many wires protrude from the mound of metal, seemingly at random and with neither pattern nor actual reason to be there. The cranial cybork bitz extend from the left cheek bone all the way up to the forehead, and show signs of both rust and masses of squig oil.
The last of the major cybork bitz, are the pair of massive spider-like limbs which protrude from the Ork's shoulder blades. Forged from whatever was cobbled about the place, the left arm holds a gruesome looking buzz saw, with the right arm holding a burna set to kuttin' mode.

Vurbrukk himself is quite the gruff and ugly creature, with gnarled features and dozens of minor scars snaking across his body, leaving pale patches across the otherwise malachite green form. His face is a mass of scar tissue, with several prominent slash marks from shrapnel, leaving his otherwise almost pig-like face even worse than usual. He has stupendously thick arms, almost like massive engorged green pythons, with slab upon slab of muscle visible upon the surface, with his legs being only slightly less developed.

His attire is not fancy by any stretch of the word, with a mangled and stained apron being slung over his neck, the coarse off-white cloth being draped over the front of his torso. Vurbrukk also means a pair of thick-cut, battered looking old trousers that are a patchwork of blue and black cloth hastily sewn together. His shirt is no better, being similarly patchwork. Of all things, his boots are in quite pristine condition, showing little in the way of scuffs and blemishes. Though some would also comment that the local stomboy nob also seems to have lost a pair of boots, right about the time Vurbrukk found his own....

Personality: “I'z tellin' ya, I never took nufing!” Vurbrukk is a massive compulsive liar, and deviously cunning (for Ork standards that is) capable of spinning rather complex webs of lies. He has come to the point where his first natural instinct is to lie to someone, if that fails then he most typically expresses some manner of low-wit in an attempt to get on the good side of the fellow Orkoid (especially if they have an excess of teef).
That is not to say that he does not experience anger, if anything his rage burns brighter than a fair number of his fellows, as he has been known for an irritable and otherwise swift to anger nature. Though this is normally buried under a veneer of helpfulness and maliciousness.

He delights and loves nothing greater than a real plan coming together. Be that as simple as fixing some choppa, or as complex as rigging up a whole new looted tank, he gains no pleasure greater than that of a job done “roight gud and proppa!”

History: Vurbrukk's earliest days were spent on an Imperial world which had recently been subject to a massive Ork WAAAGGHH in the local system, though the main Ork forces had been driven off soon enough they had left thousands of spores on the world. Vurbrukk was one such spore, and was hatched into a tribal society of feral Orks, that did admittedly have a streak of stealing items from local human communities. His earliest of days were spent in the more or less tranquil lifestyle of a tribal Ork...so not peaceful in the least. It was during his first few years that his in-grained mek 'training' came to manifest, as he had an immense fascination with all manner of primitive Orky technology, even as primitive as it was. His life for the first decade was spent much in this manner, in a constant state of low level tribal warfare both against the local humans and the other Ork tribes that dotted the local area.

It was like that day in day out, until the WAAGGHH once more returned to the world. Masses of Ork roks crashed upon the world, disgorging thousands of Orks that were very soon backed up by whooping and howling mobs of tribal Orks. Vurbrukk was swift to switch out spear and sling for choppa and shoota however, and his natural knack for technology allowed him to be exceptionally handy. The world however, was quite swiftly taken by the green skin forces. It was not for another five years until the Mek got his cybork bitz from he, and his clan's, skirmishes against the Adeptus Astartes of the Nova marines The mek and his mob of cronies were discovered trying to rig up a set of explosives to a dreadnought's armoured shell, the ensuring firefight was short and bloody as many of the Orks were gunned down or severely wounded, it was here that an exploding bolt shell fired from a Sargent's pistol sprayed shrapnel across the mek's face, and here where he lost his arm in a desperate bid to try to and nick the local captain's sword...

Repulsed, the Orks were soon consumed by the infighting that was so common when a warboss failed in his conquests, though instead of fighting, Vurbrukk and his small group of boyz managed to break off and form their own wandering group of vaguely Deathskullz-esque Orkz. It was also in this condition that the Mek first came into contact with his most recent boss, and not all the boyz were most pleased about it.

Skills: Kunnin' but brutal in nature, Vurbrukk takes Orkish kunnin' to extreme levels as he relies on engineering 'accidents' for others when it comes to rising in power, and otherwise uses his intelligence and skills as a mek to get things done. He is an accomplished mek, able to fix more or less anything from a trukk to a battlewagon given enough time and enough orky know-wotz.

He is not generally that skilled in ranged combat, but up close his naturally immense strength allows him to cause devastating wounds and, as more than a single guardsman has learnt, being able to rip a man to bits using little more than (admittedly enhanced) strength alone. His melee skills, are as such, far greater than any sorts of ranged combat.

His nature as a mek means that he is generally more disposed to making things than destroying them, though he also possesses a great deal of skill when it comes to rigging up suitably orky explosives, be they stikkbombs or full blown demolitions charges.

He is also rather good at stealth, an uncommon trait among the non-kommando orks, however a life of plunderin' and lootin' have made the mek quite sneaky, maybe not kommando standards, but sneaky enough.

Equipment:

Equipment

As a thieving git (what's a deathskull without his 'acquired' gubbins.) Vurbrukk has managed to gather quite an immense stash of items from a variety of different owners. Though not everything was stolen, just most things, some were actually cobbled together by his own hands.

Da gorekrumpa – a suitably massive 'uge choppa with manages to double as a rather handy wrench (if a tad oversized for more delicate work) if it comes to it. While not wreathed in a power field, or otherwise amazingly out of place, this weapons solid construction and sheer crushing power often manages to krump its foes.

Da blasta – A relatively simple slugga, or so it would be were it not for the inclusion of an automatic mechanism and an even bigger magazine. Accuracy is almost non-existent, but it makes a rather satisfying noise.
Back mounted burna, which can be configured to kuttin' or burnin' modes.

Back mounted circular saw, ded choppy.

Tools – various mek tools.

Two stikkbombs.

Cybork bitz – while not outwardly impressive, they function to improve endurance if at a cost of looking even uglier than before.

'Eavy armour – years of cobbling together this scrap armour have left it patchwork and disorganised, but it can reliably turn aside low calibres and blades.

One pot of squig ointment with the tag: “Property of Grug, do not touch – dat means you ya grot.”

His single grot orderly, Obud – spoiler, da grot don't know da shooty end from da holdin' end.

Fallout: Fall of The Brotherhood of Steel [Rebooting and Accepting]

Kurt immediately switched his assault rifle from single shot to burst fire at the sign of the eggs. He was, unsure of the creature that laid them, but anything large enough to make an egg that big was certainly trouble. He kept his weapon trained on the eggs as he moved to what slight amount of cover there was, not that it likely mattered by something to hold was better than nothing. Kurt saw their twitching and had to restrain himself from shooting the mutated creatures that dwelt within the shells, they were abominations and surely ones that were hostile at that.

Kurt checked the angles once more, the tunnel wasn't the best fighting position but it would have to work if all else was poorly. He made a gesture to those around to try and seek out some sort of cover, at least until the eggs stopped moving or their...creator, came to visit, for the worst.

Kurt was grimacing under his gas mask now, though to the exterior observer it could well look like a begrudged, perhaps almost even joyous smiling at the circumstances. At least they knew what to shoot at now.

Grim Darkness, Only War, You Know The Drill.

We were all waiting on @Eisenhorn
If there is no post by the end of the week, then the next person in the Init order will be allowed to go.