Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-33521582-20180324203957/@comment-33521582-20180405121735

Brother Alexus breathes out slowly, feeling the sting as some of the metal shards from the flying monsters bury themselves in the vulnerable joints of the armour, and aims for the further of the two rolling beasts, the one nearer the flock of flyers. The melta shot hits the creature's carapace, igniting and melting it with sputtering noises, letting off foul smoke and emmiting a horrifying hiss.

Brother Drew engages his jump pack, just in time, and leaps into the air and back, creatures hanging from him as they continue to claw desperately at the Astartes' armour. With violent swings of his chainsword he pries them off, even as he shoots out the wings of several flyers, before crashing back down to earth behind the forward position of Sergeant Invexus and Chaplain Gaut.

The Chaplain unleashes furious blows that stave in heads and chests, the Crozius' holy power field cleaving through the inhuman forms around him. Suddenly, horribly, aware of the spherical abomination not fifteen meters away from their position, he utters a quick prayer to the Emperor under his breath, and levels his shotgun. Adrenaline floods his system for a second as the claw of a beast finds its way under his arm and sinks into his chest, and time slows. The fat slug flies from the shotgun, finding one of the segmented cracks in the beings armour, and burying into it before unloading its explosive payload.

Brother Zhevordus clenches his teath as he is pelted with enemy fire, and he feels the coppet taste of blood in his mouth. A lucky projectile must have punctured his abdomen, but he's too wired to feel it. The vulnerable rolling monstrosities are all he sees, and he shoots his grav-cannon, destabilising the most basic of forces that hold them together. With sickening, wet noises, the chitinous, and yet metallic, plates are torn from the beings, blood and ichor spraying from torn flesh. The beings have bloated, pale bodies, covered in massive pulsating sacs, rapidly expanding. As the fragments of armour fly and collide, they cut apart the smaller beings, and pierce the bodies of the greater.

Sergeant Invexus surveys the field while crushing broad swathes of the insect-like humanoids with savage blows from his Thunder hammer, body parts flying around him in a blur of gore as the tireless Marine kills the monsters five at a time. At the sight of your actions, he lets out a bellow: "Everyone get down, now!". He barely has time to kneel in front of you and raise his stormshield, before the world turns white before your eyes.

The combined explosions of the four hulking abominations send you all flying back down the tunnel, the concussion battering you against the ceiling, walls and floors like ragdolls. The noise is painful, even through the filters of your Lyman's Ear and the helmet; it is so loud you can feel it in your guts, and your teeth clatter against eachother as you are smashed into rock again and again.

Three seconds stretch into an eternity, and as the echoes fade away, and you begin to regain your respective senses, pain blooms across your bodies. Shards of rock have made their way through your armour, and you are all badly bruised. Some of you sport small sprains that, even now, your Larraman's Organs work tirelessly, pumping your bright red blood full of specialised cells, making their way to the damaged tissue.

You all hear your vox click on, and Sergeant Invexus voice: "Radio check, go."

"Brother Castelo, reporting. I'm checking on the wounded now." The apothecary coughs while makes his way through all of you.

"Brother Klepacki, reporting."

"Brother Sun'Kouryu, reporting."