[194 / 3 / 36]
A chill quest where death is the likeliest outcome. Go out in a blaze of glory!
It is the 41st millennium and there is only war. One such war is occurring in the depths of one of planet Mercia’s hives.
It all began with the Mercian plague, a decade ago, isolated cases at first, kept to the depths of the Underhive and its mutated inhabitants, yet five years ago it suddenly spread up into the Lower Hive, endangering the hive’s ability to maintain their strict production quotas, necessary to continue the war against the foes of the Imperium elsewhere in the sector.
At first, the Mercian 401st was able to contain the spread of the plague through strict quarantines but desperation drove the sick to throw themselves against the barricades and at least see death by las rather than disease. Desperation turned to anger, and to worship of dark forces. It was not long before riot turned to war.
The governor of Mercia, whose forces were stretched thin by the need of manpower both in the factories of the hives and in the wars of other worlds, was forced to call upon all manners of soldiers from places far away.
A task was laid out to the Mercian 401st: Battle the forces of the enemy, do not allow them to overtake the Industrial and Residential sectors of the lower hives. Manpower would be provided, no matter the cost.
The regiment was thus bloated to numbers it had never seen before. You were a private in that regiment, now turned into a fully-fledged company commander, a company of 300 green, raw offworlder recruits that must stand against the tides of heresy.
This strategy is said to be doomed to fail, but you won’t be one to back down from a fight in the name of the God Emperor, and neither are your soldiers nor the rest of your regiment. If you are told to fight the heretic, you will, even if your men and women have only first held a lasgun a few weeks ago.
It is the 41st millennium and there is only war. One such war is occurring in the depths of one of planet Mercia’s hives.
It all began with the Mercian plague, a decade ago, isolated cases at first, kept to the depths of the Underhive and its mutated inhabitants, yet five years ago it suddenly spread up into the Lower Hive, endangering the hive’s ability to maintain their strict production quotas, necessary to continue the war against the foes of the Imperium elsewhere in the sector.
At first, the Mercian 401st was able to contain the spread of the plague through strict quarantines but desperation drove the sick to throw themselves against the barricades and at least see death by las rather than disease. Desperation turned to anger, and to worship of dark forces. It was not long before riot turned to war.
The governor of Mercia, whose forces were stretched thin by the need of manpower both in the factories of the hives and in the wars of other worlds, was forced to call upon all manners of soldiers from places far away.
A task was laid out to the Mercian 401st: Battle the forces of the enemy, do not allow them to overtake the Industrial and Residential sectors of the lower hives. Manpower would be provided, no matter the cost.
The regiment was thus bloated to numbers it had never seen before. You were a private in that regiment, now turned into a fully-fledged company commander, a company of 300 green, raw offworlder recruits that must stand against the tides of heresy.
This strategy is said to be doomed to fail, but you won’t be one to back down from a fight in the name of the God Emperor, and neither are your soldiers nor the rest of your regiment. If you are told to fight the heretic, you will, even if your men and women have only first held a lasgun a few weeks ago.
