Rioght propah storytime wit da' Deffwotch!

Leaving the Spess Hulk Wisdom of Ackbar behind, da Looted Krooza enters the Warp with a grinding sound. Wurrza peers outside with his mind, and feels various entities outside. The trip is expected for three days, and during those three days, da Looted Krooza's searchy gubbinz pick up numerous signals of ships. But when the krew looks out, they don't see anything.

ITZ DEM! DEM! HAHAHHA! WAAAAAAAGH!" yells Kroz elatedly, "ALL KREW, FIRE AT WILL!" Krooza's guns light up in all directions.

Meanwhile, Wazgor goes to see Uzgob's speshul projekt.
"Uzgob!" yells Wazgor, "Wot're ya workin' on?"
"Kan't tell ya, boss! Izza sekrit!" says Uzgob, "It ain't ready yet.'
However, from observation, Wazgor can see numerous chains and wires attached to full-on rokkit engines, spread randomly through the ship.
"Where can I look fer mo' kroozas?" asks Wazgor.
"Kroozas? Gotta eitha loot'em or trick da 'umies inta givin' ya some." ponders Uzgob, "Kuld build yer own, but dat takes real long, though itz proppa."

Wurrza tries psyniscience to determine more info on the ships outside. While he gets the idea that something is retreating from the storm of dakka, exactly what and in which direction is lost to him.

Meanwhile, as Kroz begins upgrading weapons with new designs that magically appeared in his head (thanks to Hostile Acquisitions), 'Eadmangla is upset for some reason. After punching out his door, Wazgor comes up to him.

"You mad, 'Eadmangla?" he asks.
"YEAH, I'M ZOGGIN' MAD!" he yells.
"'E'Z MUCKIN' ABOUT-T-T-T..." echoes a voice in the vents from very far away.
'Eadmangla, enraged, pilots his drone into the vents and blasts through grots in his way before cornering one.
"Owi, which of you gits said oi wuz muckin' about?!" demands 'Eadmangla.
"Da Voice!" the terrified grot yells, "IT EATS US!"
'Eadmangla and Wazgor now redouble their efforts to find Skarfang's head, reasoning that if he eats enough grots he may regrow his body. Three days of searching, however, turns up nothing.

>>17689575

My DH players are preparing to start a new campaign, and one of them is playing as "Sister Christine"- an ork with gender-identity issues disguised as a Sororitas, who has somehow gotten away with this for some time.

I love Deffwotch and would like to inform you that this is your fault.

Meanwhile, in the Painbay, Grakgut and Wurrza attempt to make a bloodhound rambisaur for assisting in the search. While Grakgut succeeds in his medicae, and wurrza succeeds in his mental reprogramming, the rambisaur does not survive the procedure, exploding and showering the painbay with giblets and gubbinz.

"Bah!" mutters Grakgut, "OI KAN'T ZAPP DIS BACK TO LOIFE!
"So...who'ze up fer dinner?" asks Wurrza.
"DIS IZ WOT OI NEED!" yells Wazgor, who rushes down to the kitchens, and tosses the rambisaur bitz into a stew with the leftover trygon bitz, though oddly enough ensures the meal is kosher.
"OI 'AVE MADE DA PERFEKT DISH." declares Wazgor.
As the krew enjoys the rambitrygon stew, Grakgut fattens up a grot, breaks his arms and legs, and leaves him as a box-trap for SKarfang's Head. All it catches at the moment, though, are roving packs of face-eater squigs.

The following day, Krooza exits the warp over the world of Nogred. It appears to be a developing world, mostly military. Only a few hive complexes and whatnot.
"TENSHUN ALL KREW! DA LOOTED KROOZA IS APPROACHIN LOGITEK, LEKTERZ, GARO-GUBBINZ. KRUMPIN WIF DA MOST EKSTREEM OF PREJ UH, NOT LIKIN DIS, AWAITS!" yells Kroz as Krooza takes orbit.
The comms are initially silent. Suddenly, they light up.
"Space Marines?" says a voice, "To what do we owe this honor?"
"Uhhh...." Grakgut thinks fast, "ITZ SUMWUNZ BIRFDAY!"
"We'ze also lookin' fer a git named Garo." says Wazgor.
"Dat too!" adds Grakgut "We brought balloons!."
"We gotta purge any Lekterz an' 'eresy wif dakka an' steel!" says Wurrza.
"Garo? Lectors? I can't say I've heard of such things." says the voice, "None of the personnel here have that name."
"UH...DEN DAT MEANZ WE GOTTA INSPEKT YER ROKK, AN' CLEANZE DA ASSUMPTIONS OF HAIRASEE FROM DA REKERDZ OF YOUZE WERLD. declares Kroz."
"An-an inspection?" stutters the voice, "Of course, Deathwatch! The Planetary Governor himself will meet you!"
"Wot're ya doin', ya git!?" whispers Grakgut, "If we sez weze 'ere ta be zoggin' 'eretikz den da 'eretikz gonna run away!"
"GUD." continues Kroz, "ONE KWICK KWESHTUN...IZ'E FAT?"
"Uh, no. Our Governor is actually quite on the small side, but we don't talk about that." says the voice, which cuts out.

The Kill Team heads to the vat of sister blood, and starts tossing their weapons and Boldo in. Grakgut gets party supplies, and Kroz gift-wraps the plasma pistol from the Lacrymole. The ride down is pretty calm. The kill Team passes over canyons and mesas before arriving at a green valley of the planetary command. The Last Danca comes to a stop on one of the landing pads. Boldo flies out, and begins chirping annoyance at the dryness of the air.
"Skooire Boldo. Ya gots ta get used to dem fings. Sum foights iz just not in da gud place."
Boldo chirps.

The Kill Team sees a small armed guard approach the runway. They get into position. The planetary governor approaches.
"'APPY BIRFDAY!" yells Grakgut, popping his party horn with the loudener upgrade.
"Good afternoon. I am Planetary Governor Maximus Huge." the man says.

He is four feet tall.

"AZ DA EMPRUH STATES; DA PROPA ROAST IZ BOTH A PERFECT FIT TO, AND A CAUSE FOR, CELEBRATION!" says Kroz.
"It's so nice to see people remember my birthday!" says Governor Maximus, "And for Space Marines! Truly, the Emperor smiles upon me!"
"It'z kustomary fer one havin' his birfday ta ride da biggest spess mehreen around!" says 'Eadmangla.
Kroz presents the governor with his giftwrapped plasma pistol, and Wazgor gives him some stew.
"IN DA NAME OF DA EMPRAH, YOUZE MUST TAKE DIS SMALL TOKEN OF 'IS WRATH, DAT HIZ ENEMEEZ BURN IN DA FIRES OF 'IS SUN."
"A Plasma Pistol! Well, perhaps a celebration is in order then." says Governor Maximus, "Please, we can celebrate in the Celebration Hall. And then we can discuss what brings you out here. After all, the comms officer mentioned someone named Garo."

Governor Maximus Huge brings the Kill Team to a big celebration hall. Alcohol and food begins flowing freely.
"So, Deathwatch," says Governor Maximus, "Tell me about this Garo. Has he turned from the Emperor's Light?"
"Yup." says Grakgut.
"Dat git has logik so zogged, it dun make no sense, 'cept fer da warp." adds Kroz.
"'e'z an agent of Kayoss." agrees Wazgor.
"'E dun seem ta worship ANY godz though. If 'e wuz regula kayoss, we'd 'ave 'im by now." says 'Eadmangla.
"Dis Garo claims ta be logic an' reason, yet 'is ecksploits cause the reality ta muck up." concludes Wurrza.
"I see. That truly is bad. Well, I can say I have seen no signs of heresy on my watch. My men are God Emperor-fearing, and purge such things as they see them." says the Governor, "Would you like to see?"
"Sure!" yells Grakgut.
Wurrza scans around with psyniscience. While the Planetary Governor most assuredly dings pure, he can't seem to see much beyond that.
"Excellent! I think the men will be motivated by seeing some Astartes!" says Governor Maximus.

"Afta da show, Oi kuld ficks yer littel problem." says Grakgut.
"What little problem?" asks Governor Maximus.
"We noticed ya lack a serten.... oh how do ya put it...presance." says 'Eadmangla.
"Presence? I can assure you I can walk tall among the best of them!" says Governor Maximus.
"Uh, fergive da Battle Brothaz, dey'z been fightin', uh, orkz an' forgot 'ow ta be PROPPA." sighs Wazgor, glaring at the kill team.

Grakgut distributes balloon squigs and party favors during the tour.
"As you can see, noble Astartes, my men train all day every day for excursions that threaten us." He points at a bunch of guardsmen training.
"Wot kind uv threat?" asks Grakgut.
"Zeenoz, witchez, 'ereticz, gitz..." lists Kroz.
"Mainly wildlife, pirates, and reavers. We must defend our homes." states the Governor.
"Wot kinda reaverz?" asks 'Eadmangla.
"Space pirates, mainly. They never put up more than a token fight. Our few Mechanicus divisions reconsecrate what tech they desecrate." He points to some techpriests.

While most of the Mechanicus acknowledge the Kill Team and salute them, Grakgut notices one just standing there looking at them. He sheds a single tear before going back to work. Grakgut walks closer, and the techpriest runs off, screeching in binary.
"Is there a problem, Astartes?" asks another techpriest.
"Why wuz dat tekkpriest all waaaghin'?" asks Grakgut.
"Technomat Robo-Bob must have had a long day, Astartes. Maybe he overloaded from wonder at your sacred archeotech." says the techpriest.
"Yah, sumwun should go check on'im. 'e musta 'ad a bad day." says 'Eadmangla.
"Indeed. Long and hard. What is profane, we make holy. It is very rare our services are needed, but we do our part for the Omnissiah." says the techpriest.
"So wot iz it ya do 'zaktly? I wanna know everyfing." says Kroz.
"Of course. It's quite simple. We have this pistol we liberated, for instance." the techpriest points to a pistol, "Just say a prayer, ring the bell, and bam! Purified in the Omnissiah's name." says the techpriest.
"Wot about makin' dakka mo' shooty, or choppaz mo' rippy an' everyfing?"
"Such a design must be submitted to Mars, and if the Omnissiah approves, which could take millennia, the design is okay. Such experimentation, however, is frowned upon." says the techpriest.
"Iz dere a way ta make yer shoota mo' shooty wifout zoggin' da fing?" asks 'Eadmangla.
"I couldn't say," says the Techpriest, "These mysteries are beyond me at the moment."
"Well, Astartes, the mysteries of the Techpriests are truly something to behold. Might we continue?" says the Governor.
"Okay." says the Kill Team.

"As you can see," the Governor points to some training Arbiters, "Even our Arbiter force trains long and hard to protect this world."
The Governor turns a corner.
"And our Milita a-WHAT IN THE GOD-EMPEROR'S NAME HAPPENED HERE?"
Turning the corner shows blood, viscera, and assorted gubbinz everywhere. The Governor is standing in brain.
"Did sumwun make breakfast 'ere?" asks Grakgut.
"'kourse not. Dere'z no salt 'ere." says Wazgor.
Grakgut determines that these bodies were killed in a variety of ways - some were cut apart, some burned, and some were exploded.
"Da Kodex Astartiz does not support dis akshun..." mutters Kroz.
"Looks like dis kase needs ta be..." *puts on shades* "pieced togetha." says Wurrza.
"ZOGGIT, WURRZA!" yells Wazgor.
"Astartes, I must return to my office and rally the guard!" yells Governor Maximus.
"Roight! We'll eskort ya dere!" yells Grakgut.
A sudden explosion rocks the air. It looked like it came from the Arbiter training grounds.

'Eadmangla and Grakgut escort the Planetary Governor up to his command center, while the rest of the Kill Team head to the Arbiter Grounds, now a pool of giblets to rival the militia giblets.
"Stay klose." says 'Eadmangla.
"Right, Astartes." says the Governor. He reaches a terminal and begins punching information. He appears to be rallying the Guard.
However, 'Eadmanga and Grakgut notice something - something important enough to call over the rest of the Kill Team.

A blue light.

"Got a selection of good things on sale, stranger..." says the Merchant.
"Dis aint da best time, but betta late den nevva." replies 'Eadmangla.

Kroz sets his sights on a Chronal Energizer, but fails, as does Grakgut's attempt at Lathe-Forging. Wazgor's attempt goes better, getting a sack of Lathe-Forged scrap he adds to his armor. 'Eadmangla gets a Long Range Auspex, and Wurrza gets Aether Wave-Spars, perhaps his best purchase yet. For the Last Danca, they pick up a KFF.

"Enjoy, stranger, heh heh heh..." the Merchant says as he walks through a door.

Grakgut grabs the rest of the kill team, and drives full-stop towards the next plot point. The Kill Team's Auspexes are picking up sudden energy surges outside, roughly where the guardsmen were training.
"Dis way!" yells Kroz.
"Dat way!" yells Grakgut.
"Astartes, it's some way!" yells Governor Maximus over the vox, "Please solve the problem!"
"Some Way? Wot. We gots sum killin ta do if ya dun mind." replies Kroz.
Wurrza scans outside, and feels nothing but raw Warp Essence outside. Reaching the outside, it actually does appear to be raw warp outside.
"GORK AN' MORK...DA STORM OF CHAOS IS 'ROUND!" says Wurrza.
"Try ta catch some o'da warp! I wanna cook it!" yells Wazgor.

As the Kill Team standa there, staring at the encircling Warp Storm, a series of explosions rock the surroundings as something flies past at supersonic speeds. It circles around, and as it gets within about 100m, the Kill Team can make it out. What looks like a cross between a Basilisk War Droid and a Stealth Jetfighter screeches toward the Kill Team, weapons active.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPatJtxDC9A

The Logitech Slayer Engine engages its turbo-engines, clearing nearly 70 meters in seconds and unloading a fusillade of fire, including plasma cannons, rockets, and flame, lighting 'Eadmangla on fire and scattering the Kill Team. The players fire back, but its dual-layer shields, heavy armor, and incredible toughness make hits that would destroy most other things simply make it flinch. The Kill Team even calls Skwad Mode, dropping a rokk on the thing, but after low damage rolls, the rokk, seemingly made of marshmallows, only minorly squishes into the thing. After a turn of fire, the Logitech crashes into melee combat with Grakgut, wounding him slightly with Warp Weapons due to poor rolls. The sky also begins raining acid, beginning to break down the players' armor. Its Fear 3 also causes Wurrza to stumble a bit, and Grakgut to stand there shellshocked. More concentrated fire breaks through its shields, and causes the thing to take to the skies again. The Kill Team can hear it make this mechanical grinding noise almost like laughing. After more plasma and a concussion missile that stunned Wazgor, it was Wurrza's psychic barrage that finally caused the Logitech to destabilize and crash, blowing up in a plasmatic explosion.

Oddly enough, the Kill Team can see a bit of wreckage, though most of the internal bitz are sucked into the warp. The Warpstorm begins to dissipate, and the planet's star shines a clear day.

"Heh. Loot dis time!" says Wurrza.

Picking through the wreckage, Kroz and 'Eadmangla note that while most of the weapons are gone, there's enough bitz to piece back together the missile launcher it was using. It appears to be some sort of Evil Cyclone Missile Launcher. The players resolve to toss it into the Sister Vat to purify it, then disassemble it and build more.

"Astartes!" yells Governor Maximus, "Are you okay?"
"Yup." says Grakgut.
"Neva betta." says Wazgor.
'Eadmangla is crumpled on the ground from the fire.
"Dun worry, Governa" says Kroz, "Da fing wot krumped yer boyz iz dedder da a ded fing."
"Those explosions would have killed lesser men!" he yells, "What was that thing?"
"One o' Garo's fings. Logik gone bad." says Kroz, "Not Da Empruh's Logik, nor da Wizdum of da Cod Decks. Bad Logick. Like if youze drinkin sand."
"It'z 'eresy." says Wurrza.

Boldo, meanwhile, is nibbling on the Cyclone Launcher.

"Now dat weze got sum toime fer stuffs..." starts Grakgut, "'owza bout a medikal proceeja on ya, Govnah?"
"Medical? I don't feel sick." says the Governor.
"Yes yoo iz. Yooze small, an' dat iz da werst kinda sick!" says Governor Maximus.
"Small! I beg your pardon!" says the Governor indignantly.
"Big challenged den." sighs Grakgut.
"AS DA EMPRUH SEZ: DA CHOSEN WOK SHUD BE AS MIGHTY AS ITS WIELDER. YOU'ZE GUNNA NEED A BIGGA BODY CUZ YOUZE DA BOSS AN YOUZE GOTS TA BE DA BIGGEST." adds Kroz, trying to salvage the situation.
"C'mon! Whatcha gotta lose?" smiles Grakgut with a big toothy grin, "Its yer birfday!"
"Hmm...You make a good point, Astartes. I will give this a try." sighs Governor Maximus.

The Kill Team makes their way back to the Krooza, and rush the Governor to the Painbay, throwing tarps on the squigs they pass along the way. Grakgut assembles a cocktail of chemicals. He gives him the nob stew, injects him with the nob stew, replace his appendix with nob stew. It takes about an hour. The surgery BARELY succeeds.
"Wot da zog iz dis fing for?" says Grakgut examining the appendix. It's an appendix. It is small.
"DIS IZ DA SMALLNESS GLAND!" yells Grakgut, enfuriated, "'UMIEZ KULD BE 'UGE IF DEY DIDN'T 'AVE DIS!" He proceeds to crush the appendix.
After a bit, the Governor wakes up.
"Oh my. Is it over, Apothecary?" Governor Maximus Huge asks.
"Dis'll take sum toime, soz oi wants ya ta kall us in 3 weekz an' tell me 'ow yooze doin', kay?" says Grakgut.
"Of course, Apothecary." stutters Governor Maximus, "I...must be getting back to my work, Astartes. Thank you for your efforts.' he says.
"Oi! Dun't lukk so sad!" says Grakgut, as he tapes stilts to the Governor, "Dere ya go."

As one of da boyz takes the Governor to a Rokk Pod, da rest of da boyz move the loot. 'Eadmangla is upset that nobody helped him when he was on fire, Wazgor goes to prepare his latest culinary...thing, Kroz heads back to da Mekbridge, Wurrza continues fiddling with his Aetherbitz, and Grakgut continues mixing stuff in the painbay.

We called the session there. More or less, the thing was rocking shields and armor to rival the players, not to mention having mounted a small armory.

I'd say the funniest bit was when we finally resolved the 55 damage hit from the previous session - it brought 'Eadmangla down to -6. The battle for him became running around trying to stay alive because he forgot to heal, not to mention the Enormous +20 party tank failing fear and just derping about.

OH MY GOD DEFFWOTCH

>Boldo, meanwhile, is nibbling on the Cyclone Launcher.

I know boldo is like a horrific bat-winged metroid mutant or something, but I still dawww'd.

As a side note, there was a spectator this session - the player who played Boris the Genetor in my previous Pimps in Space game. Being a jew, he found it hilarious when Wazgor made a comment about his cooking being kosher, which turned into the rest of the players ensuring ALL Wazgor's food was kosher.

In the grim darkness of the far future, the last Jew in existence is an Ork.

>>17690338
Noice.

And fear not the lack of response. There's a Strike Witches and a /tg/ quest going on simultaneously, and I've been dumping Emperasque all day. Lots of other writefaggin's goin' down.

Blast, trying to archive this but suptg seems to be dead.

>>17690823

There's always the foolz archive, which happens automatically.

>>17691242
Yeah, but that's much harder to search.

>>17691259

But all you have to do is type Deffwotch in the search bar and it appears.

All right, I submitted the request, arduously, but who knows if it went through?

Evening Bump

It was focusing its dodges on myself, which while not a bad idea in and of itself, did lead it to get chewed the crap out of those first two rounds by the incoming barrage from the others. Hopefully that little tactical tidbit'll calm down on their part as a result; if not I'll have to see about crafting some contingencies.

Speaking of such contingencies: Will be wanting to miniaturize the Logitech's Missile Launcher, or at least make a version that splits that many missiles into several sections. Once someone takes that plasma cannon off me hands (hint hint, Mr.Flamethrowers) I'll have shoulders and legs freed up for the job. Regular Cyclones are 300m S/2/- with clips of 12...

I'm thinking perhaps 200m, S/2/- and 'standardized' modified 'rokkit' loads 2d10+5X Pen 5 Blast(2) With Clip 6 and Reload 3-Full or something of the sort.

Less output (but given the new upgrades we can still end up at 3d10 tearing anyways) but gives a blast weapon that can be Twinlinked and Dakka'd into a real storm of energy explosions. Rokkit Launcha would be a better choice most of the time, but this is an excuse to be absolutely covered in the things.

>>17692267
Who's Mr. Flamethrowers? Is it me? Is it my fists? Is it my fists when they're on fire and punching something?

If it is, I think that firing Plasma Hadouken would be pretty sweet.

>>17690338
Awesome, you used the pic!

>>17692305
Awesome. Forgot the name.

Also, I can't for the life of me decide what to try for during acquisitions anymore. After Lathe-Forging it'll be stuff for the ship I guess.

>>17692305
Well, Wurrza's got'em, I think Wazgor's got one too...

damnit you're right. I'm like the only one without them!

Well, Plasma Cannon, Starflare Vent System not included. Yours if you want it. I got rokkits to build up. Can even toss in tearing or zappy gubbinz if ya want it.

>>17692332
Gragut's the tank right? So Runtz, and use an aquisition or two to fund a turret-gunner.

You can use that cannon kroz is offering for the turret.

>>17692545
I like this idea. I'll take Runtz maybe... 2 to three times and get dedicated grots to handle some sponsoned big shootas and have a pintle-mounted... I dunno... Whatever the hell Necron use on their Monolith I guess.

>>17692338

>starflare vent plasma cannon

Is that really necessary

>>17697785
Love cones? Hate little blasts? Yes it is.
Seems appropriate for an Tank-Treaded-Painboy and will fit in just fine with the panzer-dragooned missile-launcher mekboy and the aetheric wavespar doombolt psyker

>>17697785
Grakgut has excellent charge range and a propensity for doing just that. Even a plasma cannon won't really keep up with his powerklaw output, which means there's plenty of reason for him to fire a maximal (50m cone? I'm sorry, is that a jealous hellhound I see there?) plasma blast on his way in.

He might even survive the 4d10+12 Pen 0 Tearing overheats thanks to his Mega'armer

>>17698060

Do recall we changed Overheat to use armor pen. It was your idea, after all.

Also note that Starflare Vents gimp the range to 25% normal. So it would be more 40m or so.

>>17699644
ah, right. Well, its normal for a stormfield "we're totally not an overheat", but the addition to ranged, yeah. its been a long time since anything blew out though. Its alright, he's going for latheforged.

The 50m comes from maximal. That's a flat +10m, whether that's 120+10, 40+10 or 160+10. Still, even 40m is spectacular.