Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1734134-20190911202955/@comment-1734134-20191017143009

(Since there's been the announcement of the wiki system change and the alterations to the forum system, I'm gonna post up some stuff on the OOC thread, so be sure to check that out. The long and short of it is that I'm thinking a move to discord might be helpful.

Cyradon rolls an 11 out of 11 required for Precognitive Dodge. No Miscasts. Dion rolls a 21 out of 8 required for Unnatural Aim. One Miscast - Perils: Rain of Blood Result

You're lucky Dion cast after Cyradon or else you'd be in a whole load more trouble!)

Hen's shots spark and blast against the fleshy joints and vents, but the creature seems unfazed - perhaps simply immune to any pain the blasts would bring. It does turn its gaze towards him - for but a few brief moments, before focussing back on Cyradon, whom it reaches out for with razor claws that seem to slice open the fabric of reality for brief moments with every swipe. A sniper round blasts open its chest, but the creature keeps moving, even as the thing is blasted, burned and battered. The Scions arrive in time to see the ragged creature sweep out at Cyradon, attempting to catch his blade with its clawed hands.

But with moments to spare and the energies of the warp flowing through him, Cyradon manages to evade the attack, sliding past the ragged and desperate attacks of the forthing, screeching creature. The creature seems to slow for a moment - though it soon is made clear to Cyradon that he has simply caught up with its impossible speed.

Power flows through Dion, his grip on his rifle tightening as his aim becomes near perfect. His shots miss Cyradon despite seemingly impossible odds, frying vents of exposed flesh and blowing off a horn - but a crackle of red thunder above is accompanied by hot rain upon his face and all the others around him. A thick storm of hot blood brews in the sky, raining the viscous goo down upon all in the forest. Both himself and Cyradon can feel the walls of reality weakening, and the Possessed beast allows itself a guttural laugh as it basks in the rain.

It's glee halts as white hot promethium soaks the beast. While it feels no pain, its host screeches as flesh and ceramite begin to fuse together. It staggers for a moment, overwhelmed by the combatants, managing to push away from Cyradon and parry Tarkhan's blow clumsily - though still losing a claw in the process as his power axe cuts through the daemon infused flesh. It is badly wounded now, its movements like those of a drunk.

Aesc is alerted to movement from behind - but it is no Tau or Heretic. Rather it is the Partisans, now reinforced with numerous Guard stragglers of various regiments. Bayonets bared they begin to surge forward, though stagger and look up in the sky with blinkered gazes as hot blood continues its downpour.