Thank you very much for the present! I see you have found one of the iconic pictures of him. This was the reason why I kept the laspistol instead of shiny bolt pistol that are more common to see.
As more reference are made to my character in the battle report, I am curious to know, what are the opinions of the other guys, in your group? Do they like it as you do? Or even more?
Or less?
Nevertheless I didn't pressed a button on my own, everything has been catalysted by your work with this full scale battle. It just pulls out my intuition for the story, and I keep with the flow, with whatever english (dictonary
) I have.
For what?
For fun!
(And for the Emperor of course.)
//Roleplay for the infamous TURN 13//
-Two-tenth of the refugees are managable and are tasked with supply work, and wound treatment. The other eight-tenth are mostly terrified, hungry and unwilling to cooperate. They only stay inside the palace chambers as it is the most safe position.
-Safe? *Commissar Holt gloomly asked but not waited the answer.* Everything on this planet is undisputedly the farthest away of the definition: safety, lieutenant Feitcher.
*The two walked together, inspecting the troops.*
-Indeed, but even in hell, there is difference beetween the iron cauldrons.
*Holt's reply has been interrupted with a gloomy light, which vaporized everything on it's way from the mighty Ordinatus Nova to the brutal Great Gargant... that is now a walking charred tower.*
-Hahaaa! Turn them to coal! Let it paint us matt black! *The men on the walls twinklerly cheered the sight.*
-Hmmm *Holt spittled* It's not down yet.
*By the time he said that, the smoking carcass of the xeno warmachine walked up to the dropship, that previously landed on the brigde, and smashed it, giving out it's rage on the defenceless metal box like a child playing with toys.
The monotonus blows, each quaking the earth, was suddenly interrupted by another Gargant's shot which directly hit the plasma reactor of the dropship, resulting in a doom that the combatants of Infernus are already familiar with.* ~Get down!~ *Holt could only think these two words of order, as there were not even a second for him to shout it. The cold smokes of the night has been replaced for a noon in a desert.
The smell of plasma was to be felt again, cycloned with cries of agony.*
-I can't seeeee! Damn I can't seeee!! *some of the guardsmen, not fast enough to cover thier eyes, yelled.*
-Lieutenant you hear me? *Commissar Holt stood up and looked for his second in command.*
-Im... here! Officer! ... Holt. *Feitcher were hanging on the back of the wall, the shockwave must have pushed him , as he didn't prone in time, and weren't close to the wall to lean behind it, either.*
-Hah-hah-ha! *A rare response was to be heard from the political officer while pulling up the lieutenant.*
No time to fall, lieutenant! I need you to reorganize our formation. We must replace the casualties as soon as possible, I have a bad feeling that there are not only grot partizans in a position to strike.
-Yes officer Holt! And sir! Sergeant Moloch is combat-ready and reporting for duty.
-Excellent. *Holt nodded and the chain of command started to go through each men of the VII.*
~Lord Yarrick! It's him! The old man reacted really quickly, despite the chaos around them. It can only be him.~
*The small victory over the Gargant and their ork bikes, almost without a loss was a temporarily sanctuary in these times of terror.
Examples of bravery, withstanding the anger of xenos. What commissar Holt spoken of, came true before the eyes of men. Like a candle of light, the men faith reborn.
Holt knowing it by drill, immidetaly seized the moment to forge this small light to match the size of flames that burning Hive Infernus all over.*
-VII mechanized infantry detachment! Listen to me! This is how all ork will end; running and dying. We are going to push them back! They throw on us everything they have, and yet we are still standing and not just holding them off, but now... pushing them back to the rathole they came from!
Lord Yarrick is with us men! He is on the front from the first gunfire and I swear he will be the last to do one. It is the least that we standing in a well fortified position to follow his orders. I ask you no impossible, but I demand you what you are meant to do!
And now men in the walls, chimeras ready to fire! Quickly! I want to yo ...
*Again, the speech to his men got interrupted, this time, the blow wasn't aimed somewhere in the background, but to the very center of the palace.
It started raining. A shower of flaming meteors and another chess-piece was about to appear.*
~The games are made...~
*The terribe strike almost completely razed the entire palace, it's massive rockrete and plasteel structure sweatingly resisted. The casualties were unbearable. The walls shattered, men ripped apart, chimera exploded.
No one could tell wheter it was faith, blindluck, or a result of physical laws, but a few of the VII. mechanized infantry detachment were still alive, some of them injured, but alive...
Commissar Holt quickly distinguished the fire, that catched on his flack jacket.
Partially deafened, his vision a bit blurring, breathing air hard, the political officer stood up on the walls, only to find himself alone.*
~Where is my men? Where is lieutenant Feitcher?~
*An ork landa just landed in front of a debris, where metres of wall existed some seconds before.
The sizeable ork spacecraft in the air looked like a scavenger awaiting for the rest of the men to be killed.
Hordes of xenos, armed with choppas, shootas, bommaz, and many more orkish weaponry have launched their assault against the palace and their scattered defenders.*
*Grenade explosions, and gunfights erupted. Lasfires scarce but precise hits rivalled with long bursts of solid projectile. Trororoorororo, tyuff, troororororor, tyuff, tyuff, trorrorotyufftrorororo.
Greenskins overrun the courtyard, and soon forced the guardsmen to close combat.
Commissar Holt drawing his weapons, suddenly drops Morale of Volistad to the ground, his arm was in pain. His ironwill managed to keep the pain at bay and thus under control, but his body was not of an Astartes to withstand injuries like if it were scars.
The fight was fierce, down there, the flames of hellhound, and rapid multilasfires of chimeras desperately tried to hold them off. Tactically they putted a line of burning promethium where the ork boys didn't dare to pass, though some of them tried foolishly.
The political officer revealed a combat drug syringe from under is coat.* ~Emperor! Grant me the honor to fight on!~ *Holt pierced the shot into his arm.* -Hgghhhhhh
*At the courtyard the firefight seemed stalled. The line of flames divided the combatants but not for long.*
-Strive! Men of Hive Infernus! Strive because there will not be a tomorrow!
*Holt while yelling, charged down on the remaining of the stairs to join his forces.
At this moment, ork nobz hotheadedly crossed the burning promethium and were about to be massacred by the combined fire of the Guard.*
-First rank! Fire! Second rank...! *but only some of the small arms and the Morale of Volistad reacted.*
~Grot partizans!!~
-Many of them!
-Everywhere!
-Kill them!
-Waaaaaagh!
*The ork boys went on a side route to avoid the flames and reach the guardsmen position. The few men, fighting for their lives were hacking grots. Knives stabbed into organics, swords sliced through flesh and parried others, axes chopped clashed and blunted, a roar of chainsword severed a grot arm, battlecries, blood and steel wreathed.
The nobz in flame, like devils finally charged in and butchered whatever they found in their way, men and ork alike. They couldn't be stopped but only one.
-Blommmm, blommm, blommm!
Shells ripped apart an ork nob from rapid fire of a combat shotgun.*
-Ihf goft ya! *Sergeant Moloch shouted proudly, but his triumph didn't last long, as another nob closed the gap (this time succesfully) and stroke on him with power klawz, which easily penetrated Moloch's block with shotgun, flak armor, flesh, bones... and the heart.*
-Moloch! *The only squad of guardsmen, along with Commissar Holt screamed in a chore. Their fight of hopeless survival are left behind. From now on, they push themselves all out attack, for vengeance, as nothing else matters.
This final offensive cut an impressive hole in the xeno formation, yet the guard were outnumbered.
Holt fenced with an ork choppaz. The weapons clashed, and the ork punched away the humie. Gaining the opportunity the greenskin raised his choppa to finish Holt, and in the last moment, the chainsword parried the strike, and quickly roared out blood from the ork throat.
Another ork boy, and a grot approached in pair. Poff, poff, tyuff. The ork slugga suffered to hit the political officer, who answered with a lasfire headshot.
The grot used the moment to close gaps, and knife Holts leg, grounding him, and now struggling for his throat.
With Holt down, and covered with the grot in the up, an IED (frags and kraks tyed together) has been detonated by guardsman Brendon, the second to last one the VII. mechanized infantry detachment.*
Commissars these days just not dying against impossible odds. (Yarrick, Gaunt, khm, khm, khm) 
