The Imperial Colossus: A Warhammer Rogue Trader RP - Games

" Oy Mikaela you know if there be any Deathskull boyz down there"

[QUOTE=duckmaster;52872657]" Oy Mikaela you know if there be any Deathskull boyz down there"[/QUOTE] "Manticore will be filled with several Ork clans down there. Deathskulls are there to loot up every vehicle they can find for their own. There are probably other groups that aren't affiliated with clans." She spoke, thinking.

Thaddius absorbed the information contained in the dataslate with all the speed and aptitude that a wired mind such as his was capable of. "Ork infestation. How... troubling." he stated, having joined the group somewhat late. The Heretek he had been dealing with was in the hands of the automated surgical instruments for the moment, if any further work was to be done he knew Thall would supervise it and not himself. Aside from that commentary he had no further questions, rendered silent by the new Cult Mechanicus member that would be joining them for the sortie. It was always the epitome of bittersweet circumstances when he engaged with other members of the Mechanicus, for his situation has left him alone and an outcast when it came to finding like-minded individuals. And yet when he did encounter them there was the risk of being found out for his past transgression, that regret constantly hanging over him. If she wished to engage him, he would allow it - but for now he deemed it appropriate to pretend he wasn't fully there.

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UIyRXvHmXxo[/media] Meanwhile on Manticore The scorching sun set in while a Grot feasted on intestines. A dead body half eaten and eyes removed. From the far distance were truck welded together by giant pieces of metal, duct taped, and stapled on. Almost as if it was barely holding together. But it was still very much functional. Inside the trucks were humorous Orks, throwing guns and axes around like trash. They guffawed at the sight of each other, one was choking another by his bare hands and the driver was merely annoyed by the gretchen jester bouncing off the floor. At the horizon line were several other vehicles frankensteined together from pieces of technology or any scrap laying around the planet. There was a road that led up to a massive megastructure, a dome standing alone in the depths of the desert. The dome emitted flames outwards, fueled by Ork cars and ships. Orks hurried along and other minor races as well as they saw the entire field dominated by war machines of the finest sport ever bestowed by Ork kind! The announcer shouted through the mic, “In this corner we present a very special machine crafted by our Boyz at the Mekshop. A very very big tank weighing over 400000 pounds! It has all the explosives, all the cannons in the subsector, crushing Space Marine boxes instatly. I present, The Detkanator!” On the opposite side of the arena had several Mekboyz rush out of the gate, calling forth the metal behemoth. The Detkantor revealed itself, forged by Mekboyz and finished up, glorified to be the perfect sports machine. The overhead of the dome, raised their fists in the air, crying for something to be obliterated. The nob manning the Detkanator cracked his knuckles, chuckling in anticipation. The behemoth plowed through wrecked imperial vehicles, flattening them under its treads. At the opposite side of the arena laid a raider bugger, in the front was a chained up Ork. The Ork shouted in rage and attempted to pry the metal off his body but it was more to the fact he was nailed against the vehicle. The Detkantor slowly moved forward, it's long cannon operated by skinny Human slaves. The Ork yelled out to no avail, the cannon facing the raider. The Nob grinned, smashing his fist onto a big red button. The cannon submitted a large volley of explosives, knocking the spectators out of their seats as the ground shook from the shockwave. The explosion engulfed not just the vehicle but the entire side. The flames took in, spreading. The sands now scorched left nothing but ash. No traces of the raider and Ork insight. Blood was due and it was paid in full. Near the spectator box was a big Nob, taking the microphone away from the announcer. He walked in front, watching each guest. The cheers and cries have transformed to a silence, watching the Lieutenant make his way “People, today's a celebration uv fun an games. 'da art uv WAAAGH! iz not always easy but sometimes we jus need ta kool off for a while. Da megadome iz stay'n an' we ain't leav'n. 'da warboss an gork an mork will be proud uv our deeds!” He raised his microphone, “‘n dis world, we will be judged, not for wot we have destroyed, but wot we have kreated for us orks an’ fighters!” The crowds roared into submission, receiving the audience's blessing. The Nob nodded. … The Colossus floated in space, preparing for the next mission briefing in the Central Docks. Servitors and Servoskulls went to each assigned groups such as the Imperials in the command deck and the Serrated who dwelled in their housing unit. The only source of info they received was something about an Ork sport megadome.

Katherina stared at the servitor. Orks? Sports? Megadome? This would be interesting. She ventured towards the central docks. Tarkayen made his way towards the Central Docks while following Koelbe silently. He stared at the commissar intensively.

Rowbutt was in his room meditating, or staring at a wall as any sane person would call it when he heard something. Something big, mean and stompy. He could feel some kind of pull towards the wold beneath them. Something was calling for him in a very loud manner and he had a hunch about what it was. He woke up from his transit state of mind when the servoskull came in. "Iz dis what ya want, boss?" He said quietly "Aight! Lets 'ave some fun!" A large toothy grin formed on his face. Da Golden boss wanted him to scrap some motor gits real good.

The Central Docks were quickly filling up with mercenaries and workers observing the scenery. Mikaela was currently waiting for more people to fill up before the briefing.