Writings, warhammer 40k role play part three

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So, another batch

Lorenzo wasn’t entirely sure what happened, as the creature impacted with him and Palgrys, D’Antine had slammed his weapon through the ragged hole in it’s carapace. Next thing the creature exploded, flinging Lorenzo across the chamber followed closely by a wave of acidic gore.

D’Antine had retrieved his force sword and charged in at the creature just as it swung it’s claws into the other marines, focusing with the last of his strength he thrust the weapon into the flesh under the creatures armoured back and channelled his energies through it’s blade. The creature glowed faintly for an unnoticed moment before detonating in a tidal wave of ogre. Then D’Antine passed out.

Palgrys barely had time to dive aside as a crushing claw swung, dodging the pincer grip he was instead slammed bodily across the room, his armourplate crushed with the force. When he turned and rose he saw the ‘fex gone, to be replaced by a pool of steaming wet ichor. He staggered forward towards the nearest marine shaped pile of carnifex

Palgrys dragged a marine from the gore, unsure which one for the moment he could see the acidic blood had eaten through the paint and begun to eat away at the ceramite too.
The marine was missing his helmet and his skin was steaming as the acid ate away.
Palgrys dragged him clear, tearing a rag from a nearby corpse and wiping what he could from the flesh of the marine.

Lorenzo rose slowly, his HUD display glowing red as every system protested the movement. Blink clicking the alarms away he staggered towards the hunched figure of the purple space marine. As he neared him he saw it was an apothecary of the Soul Drinkers chapter, declared excommunicatus, but later exonerated at the word of Lysander of his founding chapter, the Imperial Fists. The apothecary was working quickly over the still form of D’Antine, clearing his exposed flesh of the acidic ogre from the carnifex. Fortunately, aside from some paint scouring the acid had had little effect on his armour, though the armour would likely be unusable in the long term.
“Apothecary, how can I assist?”
“Sergeant, how are your wounds?”
“I’m holding up, this looks more urgent.”
The apothecary glanced over his battered power armour before responding
“Very well, I need cloth, rags, anything to clear this muck from him before it’s too late. If you happen upon medical supplies of any kind that would help, but it’s unlikely. After I want you to have ready a full assessment of your physical state and we can get you fixed up too.”
“Ok, I’ll be back.”
Lorenzo moved as quickly as he could, on the hunt for supplies.

Apothecary Palgrys went back to work, clearing the acidic blood from the throat of the space marine in front of him

D’Antine was lost. He wandered alone in a darkened chamber, swirls of every colour, and no colour, drifted around him. Creatures passed around his perception, existing, but not existing just on the edges of his reality.
“What is this” he said aloud. Looking down to his armour to inspect for damage from his recent battle he was shocked to see it intact. Not intact. The wrong colour, gone was the proud red, in it’s place a blue, with gold trim.
In the darkness he could see bright concentrations of power. He had seen this before, other psykers within the empyrean.
So I’m outside of the mortal realm, he realised, nothing is real.
“All is real, all is false” a voice replied
Raising his bolter D’Antine circled, looking for the source.
“You won’t see me, because I don’t exist, and I do exist.”
“Show yourself”
“I am showing myself, or rather, I am showing what I can offer.”
“Stop the riddles, speak plainly.”
“I can offer you redemption, a return to the form of your brothers, reunited with your legion.”
“Speak quickly voice, I would hear everything…”

Lorenzo had returned with a limited supply of medical equipment, most not potent enough to aid a space marine, but Palgrys had done his best with what he had.
“I have cleared the acids of the creature he slayed and reset the broken bones. I cannot determine whether he has entered hibernation or is simply not conscious, but all we can do is watch over him for now.”
“Very well.”
“And your injuries? I must see to you.”
“My injuries will heal given time,”
‘I am familiar with the biology of our kind crimson fist, however, this isn’t an environment given over to bedrest.”
Lorenzo hesitated, “apothecary, whilst your lineage is to be respected, there is still a general unease regarding your chapters former actions. I cannot allow myself to lay with marines such as yourself and sergeant D’Antine.”
“We fight for the emperor, we always have. You inform me Lysander of the Imperial Fists decreed my chapter to be loyal, that should be enough for you.”
Grudgingly Lorenzo had to agree, “very well, if only due to my respect to a son of Dorn.”
“So, your injuries sergeant.”

Palgrys was summarising lorenzos injuries when a green beam sliced into his back generator. He was thrown to the ground as Lorenzo lifted his bolter and unleashed a torrent of explosive bolt rounds at the necron ahead of him.

D’Antine was awake his discussion in the immaterium had ended. And now he was awake.
Pain.
Pain was present, but it was negligible.
His deal with the voice seemed to have benefitted him, he opened his eyes, glanced down to see his armour. It was in a terrible state, the battle with the carnifex has been devastating, but even now he could see the ceramite knitting back together, the joints flexing and damage disappearing, there also seemed to be a blue tint to it.
He looked to the two marines above him, focusing on their voices as a beam slammed into the back of the marine in purple

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