Dark Heresy - Several hundred human POWs holed up in a crater with a Rok full of Goff Orks just over the horizon, looking for a fight. Major Schott feels our best option is to deliberately attract the Ork's attention so they don't head off after the civilians. Happily, the terrain is slightly in our favour - a ravine runs through the crater rim, and would be a good chokepoint if the Orks attack.

Major Schott : So you'll be acting as the cork in the bottle
Guildenstern to Rosenkrantz : Hello, Cork
Rosenkrantz to Guildenstern : Hello, Bottle



Luckily, we form a good team to reassure the men that they will be well looked after.

Polonius : Rest assured, the Private here will take care of your physical life, I can guarantee your spiritual life, and Brother Guildenstern will deal with your death, should that become necessary.
Guildenstern : *Cocks pistol and looks around for deserters. *



Brother Guildenstern is actually looking forward to the fight. This is probably the brain damage talking

Guildenstern : I'm going to get me a pet Squig!
Polonius OOC: Is it entirely wise to have a pet smarter than you are?
Guildenstern : Sure is. I can dump it in your tent at night.



Less happily, all we have for armaments are Gretchin stubguns that we managed to wrest off the greenskins earlier. Thus, we are dispatched to beg assistance from a Void-born religious settlement off over the other horizon. Arrival at their landing platform -

Rosenkrantz : Nice pad



The architecture is typically black, gothic, and spiky.

Rosenkrantz : Reminds me of home. And band-aids.

GM : Can somebody check whether it would violate the Guild Code of Conduct if we roleplay through half-an-hour of flagellation in honour of the God-Emperor?

GM OOC : The ritual is conducted to hymns by the ancient Terran poet Devo
Polonius OOC : Whip it, whip it good.



Fears are raised about the fate of anybody captured by the Orks.

Polonius OOC : Save a bullet for yourself, Brother Guildenstern, we all know how pretty you are.

Cyborg Tech-Priest : I must return to my ritual duties *clanks off*
Rosenkrantz OOC : And I must dance the Robot *dances*
GM : *headdesk*
Rosenkrantz OOC : Did you really ever expect us to take this game seriously?



Some inspirational carols for the troops

Polonius : On the first day of Kringlemass, the Emperor gave to me, a knife with a very sharp blade
On the second day of Kringlemass, the Emperor gave to me, two autoguns, and a knife with a very sharp blade
On the third day of Kringlemass, the Emperor gave to me, three heavy stubbers, two autoguns, and a knife with a very sharp blade
Rosenkrantz : Yes yes, Brother Polonius, there are people dying on the front here
Polonius : Fiiiiive frag grenaaaaades

Major Schott : This is going to be like the Battle of Stalingrad
Rosenkrantz : *looks blank* Stalingrad?
Polonius : Isn't that that agri-world on the far side of the Damocles Gulf?
Major Schott : No, no, Stalingrad was on Holy Terra
Polonius : During the Age of Apostasy?
Major Schott : No, this was back in the Second Millennium
Rosenkrantz : *boggles* Did they even have guns back then?
Polonius : Of course they did Private Rosenkrantz, the Emperor would have taught them. The Emperor has always been with us.
GM : I just gave Stalingrad as an example, OK? The Imperium can probably give us thousands of examples just as bad.
Polonius OOC : We know. We're just taking the piss :D



Brother Guildenstern inspires the troops and some rocks, by shouting at them and waving a gun.

Guildenstern : You will hold the line! You are all either troopers or sandbags!

GM : The rebreather masks also have visors
Polonius OOC : 'Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?'
Guildenstern OOC : 'Well you can just stay here, bitch'

GM : Most of the troops still only have improvised weapons, such as rocks and crowbars
Rosenkrantz : If it's good enough for Saint Gordon Freeman, it's good enough for you