The Inquisition of Miranda IV:The Under Hive:
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Urbanzorro on 24-04-2010, 20:28:09</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Inquisition of Miranda IV:The Under Hive: </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Urbanzorro</strong> on <strong>24-04-2010, 20:28:09</strong>
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				(http://media.share.ovi.com/m1/extralarge/0653/b567440f23ff4454abc857e66247e09b.jpg)<br><br>The portions of Miranda Prime that, due to the city’s constant vertical growth, have through the years become forgotten, they were once some of the greatest parts of the city, now after hundreds of years they are little more than crumbling sewage systems, and long for gotten buildings. It is here that those who choose to hide from the authorities of Miranda IV can find escape. The government choosing to ignore the under hive, rather than risk losing men trying to clear it, due to collapses, seismic activity, and simply the passage of time no Imperial authority has an accurate map of the under hive, and becoming lost in its depths is a constant threat for any who choose to venture into it. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Inquisition of Miranda IV:The Under Hive: </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Urbanzorro</strong> on <strong>25-04-2010, 01:28:39</strong>
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				Varo stood at his strategy table, in what was currently passing for his base of operations, he kept on a constant move, from one area of the under hive to the next, usually moving out after any large operation so as to help keep suspicion to a minimum, things had been moving smoothly so far. He’d managed to create quite an impressive little cult to The Dark Gods on this world and every day his cult leaders brought more and more underhivers into the fold. He had been moving on strategic targets one by one, creating ‘accidents’ and ‘riots’ to destroy buildings, communication relays, power systems, and other things that would help him when the time came. The shadows had been good to him and his followers so far, with their knowledge of the underhive at his disposal it was quite easy for his little army to go completely unnoticed. Though the time for them to begin moving out of the shadows would be soon, soon he would have to begin to truly strike against the hive, to create real unrest, to topple the followers of the false emperor, and bring his followers to their knees!!! But all that would come in time….He smiled as he thought of this and began studying the structural plans for the building he planned to attack next…it was an Adeptus Arbites station, the one closest to the underhive to be exact and the only real symbol of Imperial strength, within sight of the underhive as he awaited the arrival of his lieutenant.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Inquisition of Miranda IV:The Under Hive: </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Urbanzorro</strong> on <strong>26-04-2010, 07:38:31</strong>
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				Varo checked the chronometer in his helmet one more time, it had been some time since his last contact with either of his lieutenants, and time was something that was in short supply, the time for action was now, and he would be a fool to simply sit and wait. With that in mind he turned from his table and looked to one of the cultists who had been assigned as a runner to relay orders and information. He handed the worm two sealed containers “the red is for the ork, the other for the sorceress.” He said firmly “if I find that you have opened them, or that they have not reached the hands of their intended recipients….your suffering will be so great that the attention of the Dark Gods themselves will be draw is that clear?” <br><br>“ye…ye…yeeesss mmyyy lord!” the cultist stammered before running off into the shadows, Varo knew the man would wait there for the arrival of his lieutenants and then fulfill his duties. Without another word Varo moved out of the area he had set aside as his planning room and into the main corridor, where his ‘army’, if one could call the ragtag group of cultists, terrorist, and rebels he had assembled an army, had set up camp. Toggling the voice amplifier which was worked into his mask with his chin Varo began to speak, his voice booming around the room so that all those present could hear. “It is time…time that we struck a true blow against the followers of that rotting corps, time that we gave all who would follow the false emperor something to think about! I require 20 warriors to follow me into battle. You will assemble before me now!” <br><br>Within moments 20 men and women were kneeling at Varo’s feet, each one of them was armed with some sort of weapon, Varo quickly took stock, there were 10 of them with laspistols, 3 men each armed with a lasrifle, 2 light stubbers, and five stubber pistols. He shook his head, this was what it had come to…this was the best his force could muster…no matter this mission would fix all that. “Come” he said firmly as he turned and began to move out of the encampment, towards the higher levels of the hive in the distinct direction of the Arbite station. <br><br><br>(Slight OOC note the next portion of Varo's attack will take place in the "Greater Hive" thread, when your characters are moving from one thread to the next please be sure to specify which one in your post either IC or OOC or both)
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Inquisition of Miranda IV:The Under Hive: </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Opheliac</strong> on <strong>27-04-2010, 21:22:58</strong>
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				Elsewhere in the underhive....<br><br>A slim woman treads where even space marines think twice, yet not a soul moves to touch her. The pathetic weaklings dwelling in this rat infested shithole avoided her like soap, her very essence almost anathema to thier dirty souls. The vibrant red hair and pale skin bound beneath tight leathers and chains mark her as a predator amongst sickly sheep, and she stalks down the hive causeway with a dread purpose. A sword taps quietly against her thigh, crimson pommel thorned, hand guard as sharp as the blade itself is. She stops in mid stride, this dark presence, and looks to the ceiling. Her raspy voice crackles with power as she speaks a whisper, the cowardly sheep dwelling in the shadows scream in response, driven mad by the power in her words.<br><br>"Yes..... Here....."<br><br>Esra waits. The corridors are empty now, not even the pests that live in the dark scamper within a full block of her. The only sound in this dank, rotten place is the dripping of slime out of a vent shaft, and the pattering of feet against durasteel as the courier approaches her. "A missive, Mistressssss." "Read it." "Master threate--" His words are cut off by flick of the psyker's wrist, kineblade lodged within his throat. The message container flings itself into her hands, and she reads it silently... Waiting 2 floors directly beneath the Lower Hive Arbites Judge's office...
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Inquisition of Miranda IV:The Under Hive: </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Urbanzorro</strong> on <strong>28-04-2010, 20:12:33</strong>
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				The message was simple, typed in low gothic so as to be easily read:<br><br><br><br>Esra, the time has come to move forward with our plans, the shadows grow too small for us, and as such we will begin operations to bring down our current enemy…the hive. The hive’s destruction will be approached as an attack on any enemy, before it can be laid low we must wound and cripple it, we shall strike at its hands, that I may not attack us, and at its eyes so that it may not see us, and finally at its heart so that it will weaken.&nbsp; I have already stricken at its arms, destroying the only Arbites facility close enough to pose a threat, you must strike at its eyes detailed below is a map that will lead you to the hive’s main information relay station for the lower hive levels, you will render said station inoperable, by severing our enemy’s connection with the lower levels we will be able to begin move out of the under hive…do not fail. <br><br>-Varo<br><br><br>A few seconds after Ersa had opened the letter noises could be heard descending from above, after a minute or two Varo was visible leading a group of cultists and servitors, all of which were loaded down with imperial weapons and ammunition. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Inquisition of Miranda IV:The Under Hive: </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Opheliac</strong> on <strong>28-04-2010, 21:26:26</strong>
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				Thin lips scowl. "Ruin my fun, Varo." No longer needing to be here, she sprints down the dark corridors, terrified onlookers cowering from the very sound of her heels hitting the steel decking like thunderclaps in thier ears. She shoulders her way through a half opened doorway, heading upwards toward the information relay cogitators. With a rasping hiss the sword at her side unsheaths, the blade turning crimson as she forces her will through the blade. A flash of power from her eyes forces the blade to expand, each fragment of the blade held by monomolecular cable, her power channeled to each like a kineblade. A whiring grinding sound as she flings the blade's edges at the wall before her, sparks flying as she cuts her way through the bulkhead and into the cogitator room.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Inquisition of Miranda IV:The Under Hive: </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Urbanzorro</strong> on <strong>29-04-2010, 01:40:21</strong>
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				Several levels above in the communication center, all was going as normal....as it always did...every day. Guardsman Mitchum, one of the five PDF troopers stationed to guard the control room sighed a bit under his breath wishing something interesting would happen...just once...anything other than the oppresive boordom which he was subjected to every day!
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Inquisition of Miranda IV:The Under Hive: </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Miles Trent</strong> on <strong>04-05-2010, 18:05:05</strong>
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				An invariably dark corner of the underhive. A place where few thread and none dwell, far from the slums and deep within a large piece of abandoned industrial territory, lost to all but squatters and squalor with the occasional underhive gang. Centuries of disrepair had reduced a great number of the factories, foundries and plants here to twisted ruins of rust, dirt, slime, grime and gravel, shrouded in an atmosphere of near complete stillness. Those which were still barely functional stood as statuette monoliths of an earlier time when they were once used to fabricate, smelt and mass produce. The many sights and smells of this forsaken place is normally enough to make even the bravest of guardsmen cringe, the deadly pollutants, raw sewage and trapped heat more of a threat than any riot or act of sabotage. Most places were too hazardous to police, let alone salvage.<br><br>Yet deep within the zone, as intolerable were the conditions, a faint flicker of light danced beyond the cracks of a ruined wall, beneath the massive display of cogs and rusty beams on a large concrete building. One may think this sight as another group of unfortunate souls making camp but the hint of several tiny gibbering beings hidden behind a low barrier would prove otherwise. The closer an individual would approach the louder the snickering and jabbering became, incomprehensible and untranslatable, apparent conversation in a language most crude, like a mixture of the chattering of insects, the chugging of a broken engine and the static of a vox communicae.<br><br>The sound of footsteps on the metal plated ground prompted the conversation to halt abruptly, followed by an uneasy silence. Without much of a warning later, the crack of a shot echoed out into the darkness, followed then by an eerie chittering laughter and the dull clang of something falling to the ground. A pair of shadowy long eared creatures appeared from behind the barrier, tiny ones about knee height and wide as they are tall. Each carried a weapon that resembled a small stubber, two handed to support the weight and length. Scampering surprisingly stealthily across open ground, the two stopped by a small alleyway, by the shadow of something much bigger than them crumpled on the floor. Holstering their weapons on their back, their now free hands very quickly began flickering about, looting their apparent fresh kill. One of them pulled out something that looked like a cylinder, holding it up into the air like it was some holy talisman, a long drone of awe and glee escaping the two creatures' pointy mouths. A short exchange of chatter later and the two scampered back from which they came, taking along the cylinder and whatever seemingly valuable items they could carry, the remains of a stun baton and what seemed like a collection of metal bits.<br><br>Upon entering the abandoned factory and running down what seemed like a flight of steps to the underground assembly line, the atmosphere changed the moment they reached the bottom. All around them, muted by the soundproof walls, was the foundations of what seemed like a small shanty town, lit by shoddy makeshift torches and battery lamps. Piles and piles of scrap were strewn everywhere, behind the medium sized huts, inside any holes that could allow for storage, and in almost every open room that stood agape in every corner. Besides the scrap were piles and piles of weapons in several areas, of all kinds from stubbers, lasguns, bolters, grenades, missiles, bombs and knives. Lots of them were not even functional, majority damaged in any way imaginable, split in two, cracked down the hilt, broken into several bits. Besides such would be all the workings of a community sprung by necessity and secrecy, running across the huge expanse of the floor and making full use of all the ground that was available. Even then, all the buildings and piles of scrap were very evenly spread out.<br><br>The two creatures weaved and bobbed through the carnage of the local population, a good number of a bigger green skinned monsters that towered over their heads, dodging flying fists, loose sharp objects and stomping feet. All around them was the grumbling and rough chatter of their greaters going about their business, a half rowdy bunch who already had a fist fight going in their midst. The one carrying the cylinder was almost crushed by the weight of a huge muscular green body, tossing itself just in time to avoid a gory death, carrying on their self appointed mission all the way to a large table located at the far end of the floor. The creatures slowed to a ginger fidgety tip toe as they approached the head of the table.<br><br>"M-m-message fer you, b-boss." Its short raspy voice stammered over the yammering of the crowd around them.<br>"Yeah?" A deep booming voice replied, the single word causing them to flinch visibly, "From who?"<br>"The-the-t-the-"<br>"Quit muckin' about! From who, you scum suckin' git?" Anger and temper kicking into the reply, followed by a resounding smack of something big and bulky on the table.<br>"From-the-Spikies! They'z-sendz-a-message!" The creature literally tossed the cylinder onto the table above them, speaking as fast and loud as its mouth could go, "We'z-shot-the-messenger-by-mistake! Please-dont-eat-us! Please-dont-eat-us! Please-dont-eat-us!"<br><br>The creature's voice trailed off as the panicky duo bolted out of sight and into the small crowd that had gathered expectantly to watch them, successfully escaping any sign of retribution. The green skinned creature at the head of the table watched them go silently as several others around him laughed heartily.<br><br>"Gretchin's got fast feet, dey 'ave!" One of them pounded the table, a rather fat one at that.<br>The head did not seem very amused, hurling an arm to pound back at his laughing subordinate in the face, knocking him off his chair. "Quiet! We'z got a job to do and no more laughin', or I'll give you all da thump!"<br>The green skins around the table fell silent, knowing their boss meant business. The one closest to his right, the one with a stick sticking out of his massive saw toothed jaw, spoke up coolly as he lit his stick with a match, "Wat da Spikies want dis time, boss?"<br>"Letz see 'ere....." After a short fumble of the seal, he opened the message and began reading its contents.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Inquisition of Miranda IV:The Under Hive: </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Urbanzorro</strong> on <strong>04-05-2010, 22:09:51</strong>
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				The Message read.<br><br><br><br><br><br>Ork the hive is our enemy, our enemy needs to be made week, I want you to strike at our enemy’s heart, there is a map on the back of this note, it will lead you to the hive’s primary generator complex, I need you to go there and destroy it, level the entire complex, leave nothing working, be fast about it. I want the false emperor’s lap dogs to be cold and in the dark before the sun is down.<br><br>-Varo <br><br><br><hr><br><br>Varo waited for his lieutenants to return from their respective tasks, sure that they would succede, once they had returned it would be time to discuss their next moves, and prepare to move their head encampment so as to further avoid detection<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Inquisition of Miranda IV:The Under Hive: </strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Miles Trent</strong> on <strong>05-05-2010, 12:46:34</strong>
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				After reading the message, the great green skinned creature let out a scoff, "Feh, dem Spikies...."<br><br>Some other of his kin were stooping over his shoulder to read the message also. Their expressions were something between incredulous and confusion. One of them spoke up slowly, "Watz dis 'falss em-pe-rar', boss? Dem Spikies don make any sense. Humies are humies, right?"<br>"Dats cuz youz too dam' stupid to learn 'ow ta read properly. Shut yer gob." Their leader looked to his sides. The fat one was just about to sit back down on his chair, rubbing his bruised nose, while the smoking one looked on silently, "Sawtoof. Big Boy. Looks like wez got some blowin' up to do."<br>"Kommandoz are all yours, boss." The smoking one called Sawtoof puffed nonchalantly.<br>"Me mekboyz gots some good 'un stickie bombz we'z can use, fresh from da shops. We needin' da truks?" The other called Big Boy bellowed.<br>Their leader pulled out a brown grime laden map from a nearby metal barrel as he spoke, "Da truks, da bombz, da blastas, everythin' we can use to knock 'em good." He trailed a lumpy finger across the lines, comparing what he sees with the map the Chaos Lord had provided him. "''Erez wat we gonna do."<br><br>A short moment of conferring ensued. A minute of quick explanations after, the commotion of mumbles and grunts ended as the trio got up from their chairs and went their separate ways to prepare. The leader stepped up to what appeared to be a small platform, his lumbering steps catching the attention of all his nearby kin. Some were still preoccupied with whatever they were doing.<br><br>With a booming voice, he shouted out loudly, "'Ead Smashas! I wantz some kommandoes and mekboyz to meet up with Sawtoof and Big Boy! I want some Nobz at my kommand table right now! No jabbering! No questions!"<br>A chubby hand raised into the air, front row middle. The leader immediately grabbed the nearest sharp object, a large knife lodged into a rusty beam, and tossed it forcefully at his rather smaller kin, a violent fountain of blood spraying upon his comrades who only laughed mockingly at their fallen friend.<br>"No questions! Boss Khazthrull sayz so!" Big Boy's voice shouted out from inside the crowd.<br>"Get to it, boyz!"<br><br>Within minutes, Khazthrull was surrounded by four of his best Nobz, particularly large brutes who served as his 'honor guard'. They carried with them a heavy stubber each and melee weapons that range from menacing rusty axes to heavy hammers, handling thier deadly tools effortlessly in each bulky hand. Soon after, Sawtoof arrived with a team of five dark looking individuals, three armed with rifles, one with a flamethrower and another with a shody rocket launcher. Big Boy stepped up with a number of the smaller creatures, ten in all with three of their bigger kin. All of them were lightly armed but the dangerous explosives each one carried would allow little to be underestimated.<br><br>"Dis everyone?" Khazthrull shouldered a large bolter on his back and sheathing a monstrous red painted machete at his belt.<br>"All dat we need, boss." Sawtoof cocked the huge gun in his arms.<br>"On da truks then. I want dis whole operation done nice and sneaky like. Remember da plan."<br>Big Boy chuckled as he lumbered over to the vehicles at the end of the floor, mumbling gleefully to himself, "Heheh, red makes 'em go fasta!"<br><br>After some coaxing, the green skins at the wheel roared the ramshackle engines to life, black smoke pouring out of their exhaust pipes. The four red painted trucks, once vehicles used by the working humans who looked after these tunnels years ago, sped off into a large circullar tunnel, entering the vast sewage system that was virtually the secret behind their successes on the surface. Winding around the smelly, grubby and dirty tunnels, past clogged and caved in pipelines, they headed in the direction of the primary generator complex in the upper cities, the knowledge of their devious mission and the anticipation of some want on destruction bringing toothy grins and twitchy trigger fingers to bear.
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