Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-33521582-20180324203957/@comment-33521582-20180711114032

The gargantuan beast roars in agony as Brother Alexus' melta shot catches it in the face, vaporizing flesh and scouring chitin. An antenna is gone, and puss-filled boils erupt over blackened flesh, even as the creature rears and one of its deformed limbs shoots forward and takes hold of the offending Astartes. Alexus is crushed withing the monster's grasp, one arm pinned to his side. The ceramite-plated armour holds, but inside his helmet displays glare red and an atonal, emergency claxon begins to sound, warning of imminent breach.

Chaplain Gaut rushes past the scene, narrowly evading another sweep from the abomination, his armored bulk cleaving a way through small, too antropomorphic insectoid creatures as he thunders to the creatures underbelly. With a prodigious leap, the Marine buries his combat knife between the armored plates, and grabs onto a protruding spike with a gauntleted fist. Slowly, he begins to climb the thrashing monster, that is too furious to notice the small added weight of Othmar.

Zhevordus' shot takes the hulking monstrosity in the abdomen, and with a scurrying of tree-like limbs the deformed giant is pinned to the ground, legs extending and contracting wildly. The brief resistance of the creature does not gives Gaut time to move from the underbelly to the side, and when the creature falls, the Chaplain's leg is pinned beneath its bulk. One of the wildly flailing limbs catches Zhevordus' legs, sweeping them from beneath him and sending him tumbling into the eggs with a crash.

Sergeant Invexus can be heard over the radio, he sounds groggy, but alive: "Alexus, Gaut, Zhevordus, Drew, concentrate fire on the large Xenos and bring it down! The rest, run interference!" As he says this, he comes crashing back into the fray, stopping to pull Othmar free by brute force, badly scraping ceramite on rock. The other members immediately begin clearing the smaller creatures, creating a cordon around the monster.

Drew stands on his ledge, looking down. He is still confused from the hormonal cocktail his organs have injected into him to keep him standind through the pain and injury sustained. When he launches his grenade into the air, his eyes focus on it, briefly, as it spins away into the dark. Not the corrugated surface of a frag grenade, but one of the two large, ridged, melta grenades on his belt. In the deafening din of the cave, the clang of steel on stone is a faint bell, before a small Sun erupts in the centre of the chamber, blazing blindingly for a few seconds.