Warhammer 40k thread.

I wasn't sure if this should go under the Game or Books Based area, so I just went with this.



I'm going to try to remake a thread I started on Roblox, but it fizzled out because barely anyone posted on it besides myself and one other person...

Spoiler:

This is going to be a roleplay, based in the Warhammer 40k game/book universe. As such, it's going to be very much an action oriented thread, but in the style of Black Library book writers (Dan Abnett and Sandy Mitchells with their Gaunt's Ghosts and Ciaphas Cain novels, respectively) I will still hope for well thought out characters who bring some flair to the roleplay. That's not to say tropes/ archetypes aren't accepted... Where would an army be without it's joker, it's crazy man, it's showoff and it's loveable giant?

The easiest thing to make this roleplay go smoothly, is to have the players be from the Astra Militarium (Imperial Guardsmen) or other sectors of the Imperium of Man. This includes the Commissariat (disciplinarians and masters of morale), the Adeptus Mechanicus (stewards of knowledge, curators of machines, with a desire to strip away their own flesh), the various levels of the Holy Inquisition (study of heretics, alien species, ect), Priests, members of the space-faring Navy, or perhaps just a civilian that travels with an Imperial Guard Regiment to provide services to them. There are a lot of options, and they are not exclusively just soldiers or some sort of combat role.
Don't get too attatched to a character. People die in the grim-darkness of the far future. A lot.

I'll have the players start with their characters at a "junior" level of their respective chosen area. Guardsmen Privates, Cult Initiates (for the Adeptus), Junior Inquisitors, Assistant Commissars, and such on.
I will have my own "personal" character of sorts, but I will essentially control everyone that isn't a Player Character. That doesn't always have to be the case. If your character is elevated to a level of leadership (Sergeant, Commissar, ect) I'll give you the option to control the characters who would be under your characters command.

The description of the character does not have to be massively in-depth, and go over their entire life story. A respectable description of what they look like, their likes and dislikes, how they behave, and which part of the Imperium they belong to, and if you feel like it, a back-story, will be enough.
Even though it doesn't have to be written down, having a backstory thought upwould be nice, just in case somebody asks about it.

If you're want information of the lore of Warhammer 40,000, please just ask me, or look it up. You can find all of it online, in great detail about everything you would need to know.

I'll start the roleplay off when I have one or two players willing to join.
IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS, PLEASE JUST ASKS ME.

RULES (I forgot them in the original post. Whoops.)

1. What I say goes, but if you think something is unfair, please do bring it up and we'll talk.
2. You control your character, and only your character. This is, unless I give you command of a group of NPC's.
3. Godmodding. I trust you people enough to not have to say anything more. Just don't do it. Your characters are human (or mostly human if you're Adeptus Mechanics) and they have human mortality.
4. Player Knowledge vs Character Knowledge: Your character only knows what they can hear, or are told. They don't magically have your eyes.
5. Character swearing. It's allowed, but there is no "fuck" in Warhammer 40k. The people use a different, but as flexible word to express their ire. It's also a different word, depending on where the character is from. Different cultures on different planets and such. The most common are...
- Feth. (Fething hell, oh feth, feth off!)
- Gak
- Frag
Hell, you can make up your own word if you want. Go for it. As for the other curse words, they're all fair game. Except racial slurs. In the grim-darkness of the far future, there is no racism (except against aliens.)
6. ACT LIKE JUNIORS. Your characters should not be hardened, just yet. Let what happens in the roleplay build your characters, and shape them. Let them be horrified.

7. FIGHTING IS DICE-BASED. Random chance (mixed with stats) will decide your fate.
(Thats all I can think of right now. I'm not that experienced with running threads, but I usually do them in a way that isn't too strict, unless something is blatantly against rules, or not right.)

CHARACTER STATS.
I'm going to run a very simple stat-system that will be mostly used in combat.
A stat-score of 10 is competent. You're good at that, but nothing special. Every 2 stat-score above/ below 10 will give a modifier to your dice. ex. 8 Ballistic skill = -1 modifier. 20 Ballistic skill = +5 modifier.
All players have a standard level of 8 for their stats to start with.

Ballistic Skill: 0-20. Your skill with firearms and thrown weapons (includes grenades and such)
Weapon Skill: 0-20. Your skill with melee weaponry, includes fists.
Physical fitness: 0-20. Your characters over all strength and toughness. Used for physical exertion, or taking hits.
Dexterity: 0-20: How well your character moves.
Intelligence: 0-20. How smart your character is.

Your "class" so to speak, will have an effect on your starting stats.
Guardsmen have a +2 point bonus to everything except for intelligence.
Adeptus Mechanicus have an +8 point bonus to intelligence, +2 to Physical fitness, and a -2 to dexterity
Commissars have a +4 bonus to Weapon skill and Ballistic skill.
Inquisitor have a +4 bonus to intelligence, dexterity, with +2 weapon skill, with -2 physical fitness and ballistic skill.

Every player gets 5 stat points to assign wherever they want.
Imperial Navy workers and Civilians have no starting stat bonus, but they can assign 10 points instead. Their training doesn't leave them with better skills, only what they make themselves in to.

PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR STATS IN YOUR CHARACTER POST, SHOWING THE ORIGINAL AND IN BRACKETS BESIDE IT, HOW MANY POINTS YOU ASSIGNED TO EACH STAT.

After long combat times (in a war), or in a lot of training, points will be given, depending on what your character did. A lot of shooting, means they get better at that.

Name: Kila (Ky-luh) Jameson Volaska
Class: Guardsman.
Age: 22
Appearance: He stands at 5'11 and weighs about the average. He has dark rings around his eyes, indicating a lack of sleep most days. His eyes are a glistening blue, a stark contrast to the area around his eyes. He has pale skin, making the dark rings stand out like he was a raccoon, almost. Kila's uniform is often buttoned wrong, making the entire outfit seem a bit rediciulous, even comical. He has a slight grin, appearing to be either insane, or amused most of the time. His hair is black, with tinges of blonde at the roots, suggesting his hair was dyed.
Stats:
Ballistics Skill: 11 + 0 Modifier ((Added 1 Point))
Weapons Skill: 10 +0 Modifier ((Added 0 Points))
Intelligence: 10 +0 Modifier ((Added 2 Points))
Dexterity: 12 +1 Modifier ((Added 2 Points))
Physical Fitness: 10 +0 Modifier ((Added 0 Points))

((Fixed))

Reinigen Ignel
Witchhunter Extraordinaire
19

Potato.

Stats:

Spoiler:

Reinigen, or Rein, as he prefers to call himself, is 5'8, with a lithe figure. He has black, bedraggled hair of medium length, which covers part of his left eye, orange, firey eyes, and pale skin. Reinigen has a small quirk where he takes the ashy residue off his Inferno Pistol, and uses it as eyeliner. The reason of this is unknown.  He wears your average Ordo Hereticus uniform, complete with a black longcoat with gold outline, various skulls and symbols of the Holy Inquisition, and even a red-brimmed fedora. He also sports a pair of spectacles that seem to fall slightly below his point of view, and requires him to adjust frequently.

Ingel is the carrier of the rare, recessive Pariah gene. This gene causes people like him to create an aura of "otherness," which disrupts the psychic powers of psychic organism, effectively shutting down psykers. This also results in people avoiding him, due to his "otherness," which results in psychic-sensitive organisms, such as humans, to feel uncomfterable around him.  This results in his antisocialism.

Reinigen was your model Inquisitor. He could remember every single known cult by Imperial intelligence, even down to it's notable members. Of course, he'd forget a few, time after time, as there are so many cults out there. He can examine someone and find their motive, to the point of knowing when they're going to hit, dodging every single attack thrown to him by pure insight. Sometimes. His mental abilities are beyond many others of his age, which developed his reputation. He strives to become perfect, attempting to suprass the knowledge of even the wisest of sages in the Imperium. Of course, he's flawed, like many others. Don't tell him that to his face, though.

Reinigen also has a burning hate for heretics, fueled by personal reasons we shouldn't dwell on too much. Of course, all the propaganda in the Imperium would have anyone develop a similar hatred to heretics. Maybe it was because someone close to him was killed by heretics. Maybe it's because his hatred is fueled from his mutant status, being treated as a freak by others of his age-group. Maybe it's because burning heretics and witches make a brighter colored flame than burning others. Whatever the reason, Reinigen would keep secret of it. He wouldn't like anyone to know his weaknesses.

Alessi Vendin
Imperial Guardswoman of His Holy armies.
22
Trooper Vendin is 5' 9" tall, with dirty blonde, shoulder length hair that she keeps all tied back in a pony-tail most of the time. Not a single stray hair should be allowed out of it's place. Her eyes are pale blue. She has slightly narrowed keen eyes, and an averagely sized nose. The shape of her mouth makes her neutral expression seem a bit like a frown. Before she joined the Guard, she had a body with feminine curves to it. All of the physical work has strengthened her body, dulling the curves in to an athletic shape. There's still the traces of her old self, found in C-cup breasts, and nice hips. She has a perpetual bruise between her collarbone and shoulder, caused by her powerful weapons stock kicking against her flesh. It only begins to fade after long periods of inaction.

"Every young lad or lass joining the guard is the exact same. Full of piss and fire, ready to take on the entire fething galaxy. We're all young and powerful, and we'll make our own legend. Feth the authority, their only job is to point us where to shoot!"
Alessi Vendin was your usual guard initiate, fitting perfectly to what she had said about them in her later years. She joined at the age of Eighteen, and was very aloof about everything. The training in the Guard changed her, not just physically. Mistakes were punished with beatings and punishment tasks. Nobody enjoys being beaten (except for some people) so after the first particular brutal punishment, she realized that mouthing off and being lazy would get her nothing but a shot in the head. She made a clear effort to be a clean-cut Guardswoman. Proper uniform, proper conduct, but still retaining the flexibility of action/ command interpretation that makes the Guard so special. She has a healthy fear of Commissars and the inquisition, and that much should be expected.
She tries to be friendly towards everyone, new initiates in particular. It's still fresh in her mind, how shocking being a Guardsman/woman can be, and how difficult it can be to meet up to the standards.

STATS
Ballistic Skill: 10 (+6)
Weapon Skill: 10 (+0)
Physical fitness: 10 (+0)
Dexterity: 10 (+0)
Intelligence: 8 (+0)
((Gave myself 1 extra point to Ballistics, due to her being in one major conflict as a sniper so far. Hope everybody's fine with that.))

+++ Incoming Vox-transmission from the Cargo ship Novictus +++
This is the Captain of the Novictus, requesting permission to enter the holding bay of Cadian 1085 Regiment ship.

Captain Nikoli Sarbander of the Cadian 1085, designated Forthcoming Wrath, leans back in his command throne with a groan. He opens his mouth to speak in a slow, lazy manner and says "Send them back a response. We will open the cargo doors and let them in." He locks his fingers together on his thin stomach and bends them inwards with several cracking noises.

The Novictus, a transport ship capable of carrying 2,000 men in it's cargo bay and billets, is dwarfed by the monstrosity that is the Forthcoming Wrath. The ship is designed in the gothic cathedral style of most of the Imperium's space faring vessels. It's seven and a half kilometers long, and half a kilometer high and deep. Every meter of it's surface is covered in plates or portholes for weapons, fighter discharge, or the main cargo bay door.
Docked and landed within the mighty troop ship, the Novictus opens it own bay doors, extending a ramp wide enough for 10 men to stand abreast on it. From the ship, steps out 500 men and women, all new conscripts, clad in their fresh battle uniforms, and carrying their 60 pound kits, and lasrifles in hand.

They are greeted by the Cadian 1085's leaders. Colonel Trechis, a noble man, and his Major Fevis who looks like he's skipped a few PT sessions, and all of the assorted Captains lined up beside them.
Colonel Trechis starts by introducing himself, and Major Fevis to the new Troopers. After he says "Welcome all, to the Cadian 1085 Regiment, light infantry. You ladies and ladies" he pauses to let the officers and troopers have a communal laugh "will be put assigned to Captain Dorin MkReveral." Trechis holds his hands together behind his back, nodding towards Captain MkReveral. "He will lead you to his companies billets, and there you will get settled. He will teach you how to live your life in our glorious regiment."
In unison, him and his officers salute the troopers assembled in the massive cargo bay. It's just a massive room, with cranes, and belts to offload cargo, and doors leading to the rest of the ships hallways. The fresh new Cadian's mirror the salute.
"Dismissed."

Captain MkReveral raises up his hand, waving. "Alright you newbloods, gather round, gather round!" He shouts at them to get over the noise of machines, work, and shuffling feet. "Follow me and don't get lost. And if you get lost, remember your guard training! Follow the Guardsman in front of you, even if he don't know where he's going. Chances are he's followin' someone who knows where they're going."
He leads them through the wide halls, up and many flights of stairs and through countless hallways. Forthcoming Wrath would seem a maze to anyone unacquainted with it's lay out. "Come on, come on!" he keeps saying, ordering the troopers to keep up. "We'll pass out data-slates of the map later, just worry about gettin' your sorry asses in to a bed for now."

They finally find themselves in a hallway, designated for MkReverals company. It has dozens of doors on each side of the hall, all leading off to bunk rooms. Every bunk room has twenty-five bunk beds in them. He stands at the middle of the hall, once everybody has piled in. The hall is wide enough for three people two stand abreast. "Alright, I'm going to call out yer' name and a number with a letter. That's where you're going to be bunking." He goes on to name off every new trooper, and assign them to a bunk room.
"Trooper Volaska, 11-B."


Back on the bridge, the Petty Captain informs Captain Sarbander about another ship that is due to arrive some time today. He looks at the designation and information about the ship. He growls out one word. "Inquisition..."

Kila nods, walking into the room. He shows no trace of emotion besides the half grin as he walks into 11-B. He takes a seat near a bed towards the back. He hesistates to sit on it, rather he sits beside it, watching all others who enter the room.

Seven other soldiers were in the room before him, sitting on their bunks doing different tasks. Cleaning weapons, putting them back together, folding clothes up, inspecting their kits and uniform. None of the people who were in the room before Kila had come with the 500 other new troopers.

Alessi Vendin reclines on her bunk, using two pillows as a back rest. One of her knees is up, with the other leg crosses over it. Her dirty blonde hair is loose. She's dressed in her fatigues, consisting of a fitting grey tank-top which she fills out, and a pair of baggy ocher-green pants with the belt loosely done up. In her hands, she holds a long scope and a vibro-cloth to polish it's lenses. When the men and women start filing in and picking bunks, Alessi sits up, crossing her legs on her top bunk. She watches them as they enter.
"Hi!" she says, peering over the edge at a small dark-haired trooper with olive skin.
"Oh, hello. Y-you don't mind if I take this?" she asks, gesturing at the bottom bed of Alessi's bunk. Alessi laughs at her awkwardness. "Not at all." She leans further over the edge, and hangs her torso upside down, extending a hand to the girl. She couldn't have been more than eighteen. "I'm Alessi Vendin." The girl takes her offered hand, giving a quick shake and a shy smile back. "Nessa Jiliin."

Alessi pulls herself back up from the edge with a huff, and rubbing the side of her head. Being upside down like that made her a little dizzy. "Don't worry. Everybody's just like you here, even the boys. It's always hardest meeting people for the first time."
She looks around the room, people picking their bunks and getting to know their bunkmates and neighbors. Most of the new troopers have stripped down from their full uniform, in to the much more comfortable fatigues.
Alessi looks to her left, at the man with black hair sitting on the floor. "Jeeesh, by the throne don't you look tired!" she exclaims, with a wide smile.

Kila's eyes flick over to glare at her, he narrows his eyes for a moment. His face takes on a sort of angry look, but he doesn't really answer her. His cheeks however, turn a bit red after this. He lays his head against the bed, facing away from her. He grabs the pillow, and shoves it on top of his head.

She cocks her head. "Did I say something wrong? Eh? Feth... Look, whats you're name? I'm Alessi." She resumes her cross legged seating on her bunk. Alessi picks her scope and cloth back up, polishing it again. She waits for him to look back. To her, he seems very shy, and in need of someone friendly. She had seen other troopers like this before, and suspected he wouldn't be the last to, she assumes, feel overwhelmed and shocked by everything. "You 'ought to get up on your bunk. They're softer than the metal floor... Barely" she gives a short laugh.

Kila turns, peeking out from beneath his pillow. He gently shifts the pillow, slowly putting it down. He climbs up onto the bed, then faces towards her. For a long while, he just stares, with his little raccoon face. Finally, he quietly says. "I'm Kila." His voice is slow, and nervous like he's afraid he'll say something as simple as that wrong. His blue eyes glance around at the other people, and he scoots against the wall, still looking towards Alessi.

"Well Kila! You need to relax. You're way too tense." She nods at him, and then puts the scope back in to her weapon case, locking it, and placing it on the shelf that's at level with her bunk. She then goes back to reclining on her bed, placing her hands on her flat stomach.
Everyone seems to be getting settled in their beds, and their kits packed away.

Kila's bunk suddenly shakes as somebody climbs up to the top bunk. If he looked at the foot-end of the bed, he would see a pair of large feet over the edge. The top bunk arches a bit inwards, as a great weight lays on the not-so-stable top. Alessi looks over at the noise the newcomer has made, and shakes her head while grinning. "Looks like your bunkmate is here."

Kila glances up, wondering who in all things holy could weigh that much and still be accepted. His eyes drift over to the large feet, where he begins to grin just a bit. Who knows why, but he seemed to brighten a tiny bit at this. He does however, scoot off the bunk and sit on the floor, just in case the top bunk fails, and crushes the bottom one. It'd be a shame to be a pancake while asleep. ((Is the bottom bunk off the ground?))

He grumbles a tiny bit, leaning to see who it is on the top bunk.

A bald giant, hugely muscled and over 7ft tall, lay on the bunk. "Mhh. Hey newblood. Call me Fortess. Everybody does, even officers if they like the name enough."

Alessi chimes in saying "He's got all sorts of names, he does. He likes Fortress the most, but he'll also go by Boulder. "
Fortress nods. "My real name sounds too small." He snorts. "Feth what my parents were thinking when they named me Eustice. Didn't think I'd get this big probably."
"Yep, everyones favorite big dumb giant, is what he is." Alessi lays on her side, one hand against her head, and the other hand laying against her side and hip that's facing upwards.
"Dumb!" he scoffs, faking insult. "You hear her Kila? Calling me dumb! I'll tell you, when we did our intelligence testing, scored ten points lower than me, out of a hundred. Dumb blonde is more like it." He smiles wide. "Ill tell you, if you've heard any rumors about her, you'd be havin' some nicknames for Alessi."
She laughs. "And you know that they're just rumors." She twirls a lock of her blonde hair around her finger.

Kila whimpers a bit, not ready for this much interaction amongst others, all he is able to do is whimper out a "Oh." His eyes look at Fortress, the one person who intimidates him nearly as much as a woman. He tries to hide the anxiety, pretending to be really focused in setting up all of his gear. ((Would he have taken the intelligence test yet?)) "W-Well, how did you do B-Boulder?" He stammers out, his face lighting up again.

"I did fine enough. Got bout 75 percent on the test... so 'bove average." He shrugs. "Alessi got... What was it again?"
Alessi pouts and crosses her arms against her breasts. She grumbles out "Fifty-five..." She smirks. "Atleast I can hit the feth-side of a barn unlike you!" Alessi beams proudly, pressing her arms tighter against herself. "Only a few people in the Regiment that can shoot better n' me. Scorin' up in the ninteys for sniper practice. And these dummies don't stay still, nor are they close!"
"Feh!" Fortress waves a hand at her dismissively. "Lasgun's are too small in me hands. Hitting the triggers are hard... I like my lascannon much better."

(Yeah, they would have. But they take the test every year, just to check again.)

Kila shrinks away a bit, letting the two friends talk to each other. His longer fingers search the bag, pulling out random items and placing them around himself in a semi circle. He begins to take apart the smallest of the objects, working in sort of a pattern, going from smallest to biggest.

A tall, well-built man with black hair stands at the door of the bunk room. He clears his throat with a growl. "Yes, yes, welcome to all of our newbloods we've just received! I am your Sergeant, Jokaib Gunnar. Here in my wonderful squad, I will teach you how to live life!"
"Is that why I'm such a failure?" A man who looks nearly identical to Sergeant Gunner, except for having blonde hair, asks in a cheeky manner.
"No, Trooper Try Again, you were a failure before you came to me." He shakes his head, looking down and placing one hand on his chest, over his heart. "And it's my deepest apologies my grace couldn't help you."
"I know where you can stick your grace!" he quips back, the "veterans" of the squad giving a laugh.

"But back to business! Get some sleep you sorry bunch of soldiers. In the morning, you'll hit the showers, go to morning prayers, then meet back here and we'll talk about the boring stuff of being a guard."

A few notes OOC:

Exorsus
All things, great or grim, have their beginnings...

"I don't like this... too much brash guardsmen. Even more than our henchmen. Most of them are even trainees. I have a feeling they'll get us killed, master..." Reinigen says, adjusting his spectacles.

"Silence! By the Emperor, you complain far too much! The only reason why you've become much more than a human shield to me is because of your intelligence. You're also as inexperienced as them, Ingel! Now, if you're smart enough, you'd keep your mouth closed!" Head Inquisitor Callion remarks. Few other inquisitors chat in the very same room . Ignel and Callion are at the other end of the room, with the latter sitting on the largest chair. Ignel leans on the wall, looking down on one of his books. He seems to be reading some sort of novel.

They will be arriving on the Exorsus. Another cargo ship, about the same size as the Novictus, if not smaller. The Exorsus is able to hold 1,750 men and women onboard. There are only a stark, few actual Inquisitors on the ship, however. The rest are made up of their many Henchmen, armed with lasguns and a stark few meltaguns.. The cargo of the ship holds the rest of these denizens, as well.

The Inquisitors, sent by the Ordo Hereticus, specialists in finding and eliminating heretics, traitors, and witches (rogue psykers), of the Holy Orders if the Emporer's Inquisition, are destined to arrive on Cadian 1085, the Forthcoming Wrath. They are assigned here to get rid of the ever-growing pysker threat. Of course, they follow their own orders, to the dismay of the captain of the ship.


Two henchmen, soldiers dressed in black overcoats with red hemmings, adorned with many symbols of the Holy Inquisition, step into the room. Head Inquisitor Callion calls for everybody to quiet down. As the noise settles, Callion rises, stepping before the two henchmen. They take a kneel, bowing their heads down in respect. "We are now about to dock Cadian 1085. What are your orders, sire?"

"Hmph. Send them a message through Vox. Tell them we're set to arrive right now. Alright, men. Get ready. You already know what's going to be done once we land. You will all be notified on where you'll be designated on the ship shortly. As for you, Reinigen. You're following me once we land. And keep your mouth shut, too!"

Reinigen replies with a nod and a grin, as Head Inquisitor Callion leaves the room. He puts his silly hat on, following him shortly after. He rubs his finger onto the barrel of his Infero Pistol, rubbing thesoot onto his eyes.

+++ Outgoing Vox-transmission to the Exorsus +++
The Holy Inquisition vessel Exorsus has permission to enter the cargo hold.

The bay doors open for the third time this standard Imperial day. Before the inquisition ship arrived, the cargo ship that ferried the new guardsman in, had left. The passengers inside are greeted with much less fanfare than the other new arrivals, and is to be expected with the Inquisition.
Colonel Trechis's Adjutant, Adj. Kevok. He alone, greets the Inquisitors. "Welcome aboard." He holds up a data-slate. "This is for the Senior Inquisitor. It tells you which area you will be given for resting, working, planning... Ask one of the Forthcoming Wrath Officers if there is something else you will need." Kevok fidgits, clearly in a hurry to leave their presence.
"Thank you, Adj. Kevok." Head Inquisitor Callion takes the data-slate from the mans hands. "Try to relax, boy."
"U-uhm, ah, sorry Inquisitor, Sir... It's just, everyone I know and trust tells me to have a... healthy fear of the Inquisition."

Callion and his retinue walk off. Callion himself is cackling wildly as he passes Kevok. When he stops, he shouts back "The people you trust are wise!"

(!Updated!)

Reinigen soon follows Head Inquisitor Callion, the shade of his silly hat covering most of his face. His orange eyes are notable, however. After hearing Kevok's remark, he manages a small laugh to himself, trying to keep a professional aura around him. He tries to make his presence as fearful as possible, walking dramatically, but professionally, and having his coat flow. His nature of being a "Blank" also causes an aura of uncomfterableness around him.

"Hmph... so we've developed quite a reputation...." Reinigen says to himself, adjusting his spectacles as he takes mental calculations of the many areas of the ship. Soon, he and the other inquisitors find their way to their quarters. They have their own part of the ship, with quarters for sleeping, storage, and other areas of operation. Reinigen takes his own sleeping quarters, with two servitors following. "I don't care where you put the bags. I only need my books. Now, away with you both!" He exclaims, as the servtors drop a heavy case, and leave.

The Inquisitor proceeds to disrobe, removing all his decorations, as well as his overcoat, folding and assorting them neatly over his large book-case. He lays back on his bed, his messy hair flowing down his head. He continues to read his book; a controversial romance book that he took from the Hed Inquisitor's personal library, with his permission. "How disgusting..." he says, to himself, his firey eyes surveying the small words of the book.

((Alright, I've decided that I'll let players have two characters cause we need to fill some space and I'm lazy.))

After he's finished with his dry speech, Sergeant MkReveral walks to his bunk, shared with Trooper Try Again. He gives a short wave, before kneeling in front of his personal trunk and fishing out a small metal case, and a fold-out table, 2ft in it's radius. He sets it up as some of the soldiers get off their bunks to join him. When all gathered, five people sit around the table set up in the walkway of the bunks. Jokaib, Walin (Try Again), Alessi, Fortress, and another woman with very short brown hair, and a face that's perpetually frowning or concerned, named Viktoria Gloann. They all brought their trunks to sit on.
Jokaib opens the metal box. Cards. He pulls the deck out, shuffling it, then dealing the cards.
Fortress pulled out a fat cigar and lit it with an aqulia-stamped lighter. He takes a drag from it, blowing out the smoke, then offering it to Viktoria. She takes it and says "As the squads Corpsman, it's my job to tell me that these things'll kill you." The woman smirks, passing it to the next in line in the circle, Walin. They would pass the thing around, until it was gone.
"Well, war kills you." Alessi adds quietly.
There's words of agreement and solemn nods. All of the veterans have lost at least one friend. More often than not, dozens.

Name: Garth Uulovio
Class: Adeptus Mechanics
Age: 39
Appearance: Clad in a dark crimson cloak, Garth Uulovio, stands about 6’1” on bionic legs. His various mechanical implants include bionic arms and heart. His face is always covered by a thick mask with various tubes protruding out of it and into his chest. On his back is a large utility mechadendrite and on his side a simple laspistol.

Cold and calculating Garth is an egomaniac in the sense that he believes his machines are worth double that of a man. His love for technology has lead to his ascension into the metallic being he is today. His shifty grey eyes are the only part that appears truly human whilst covered in his cloak.

Stats:
Ballistics Skill: 10 + 0 Modifier ((Added 2 Point))
Weapons Skill: 8 -1 Modifier ((Added 0 Points))
Intelligence: 17 +3 Modifier ((Added 1 Points))
Dexterity: 8 -1 Modifier ((Added 2 Points))
Physical Fitness: 10 +0 Modifier ((Added 0 Points))

Cybernetics:
Common Craftsmanship Bionic Arm x2
Common Craftsmanship Bionic Legs x2
Common Craftsmanship Bionic Heart
Common Craftsmanship Utility Mechanendrite
Common Craftsmanship Respiratory Filter Implant
Good Craftsmanship Autosanguine
Good Craftsmanship MIU

Kila takes this opportunity of silence to finish up his taking apart and putting together. He puts all of his gear back into the bag. He makes it appear as though he's sleeping in bed, using his gear spread out. In reality, he slides beneath the bed, laying against the hard floor in darkness. Sure it's a bit of a tight squeeze, but he manages to do it. Anyone watching would probably laugh at the odd display, as he then closes his eyes and tries to sleep like this.