Adventures in Roleplay

Sörry for the clickbaity title, but Adventures in Roleplay is catchier then TTRPG-War Stories.
This ain't a shitpost, on the contrary. It is a V.S.C.

Well this should be a thread of stories from user's TTRPG experiences. They can differ quite a bit.

My story started over 11 months ago. During cövid I really got into RPG's. So I found a group on ventrillo and started a campaign that went sideways in more ways than I anticipated.
This is the written account on account of me, about a group of six players whose characters challenged the boarders of good behaviour.



It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries The Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the Master of Mankind by the will of the gods, and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truly die.

Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from aliens, heretics, mutants - and worse.

To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.

Now the introduction of the players:



We got a Noise Marine of the third Legion twice removed;



a fallen Blood Angel Librarian who is very well-read;



a Forsaken Nightlord whose nihilistic tendences will leave you quite shaken;



a World Eater Veteran of the Long War, whose hatred, is a feeling quite trve...



oh and last but not least two folks from the world of men.

A Heretek from Mars and a Plaguemeister from somewhere.

I vent to the players that this will be a fox hunt. As you can see every one of the characters is from a different group or chapter. It would be
quite easy to sow unrest.
It is also a kind of West Marches campaign. From their point of view they are in control and I sometimes spectate and narrate, aside from the odd dice roll challenges.
We took several month to get to End Game, and it was an hell of a ride.

All of them arrive from a Space Hulk in a system in the screaming vortex. The planet is called Nonus Refertia and has seen quite a bit of warfare.
Tyranid invasions and following orbital bombardment left only the two polar regions inhabitible.

The group who has no name up to this point find a drop pod. The heretek takes charge and all of them make their way to the surface.
Well mostly all; the Noise Marine was in his cups and missed the launch.

'Really funny guys. Pulled a fast one on me'



'I guess I take the scening route.'



5 Crusaders are slowly approaching the north their vox receivers are getting some Wilhem Screams and loads of 56s.
The drop pod lands in the northern pole lands.



While half asleep during the intro our 5 crusaders, (who are fighting the good fight) are getting to know each other.
The Heretek is actually a cog-person. All guess they are a dude, but that is because they wear light power armor. 4 Mechadendrites are produding from their back. And since they are ambidextrous (even the 6 limbs [minus the 2 bipedal 1s for walking it off]), engineseering is easy as 3.
The fallen Blood Angel finds it wildly interesting and writes everything down. The World Eater and the Forsaken Nightlord seem to know each other from somewhere, like a match thrown into a Warp Storm.

The Plaguemeister is dropping a knowledge bomb:

'I got the full mission briefing during our drop from sky.'
'We know what to do, sow unrest like always' said the Night Lord and World Eater at once.
'That's actually only half the truth. We are after an artifact called the Obsidian Stool!'
'The obsidian stool?!' asked the cog person.
'Yeah in time immemorial there were two. The Golden Throne for Big E., and the Obsidian Stool.'
'What does it do?' wondered the librarian.
'It let's you sit on it -- and then bestowes the power of Horus into your ass.'
'3ing 1'
'5'

All these was casted in the group's vox channel. But the noise marine was trying to savely land using a only a jump pack.
In his mind theatre I casted the following image.



After some more Wilhelm Screams followed by 333 well I for 1 was quite amused.
Though mean a fox game has high stakes.

He arrived at a train station. The only one at the terminator. He could go south or to the north. Unfortunately the vox link got lost somewhere and he tossed a coin.

'South it is.'

It was not an empty train, one passenger told him a story.



'That's all quite nice, but I have to catch up with my Warband-- uhm I mean chapter. Definetly chapter.'
'Was nice knowing you, I mean getting to know you-- Do you have a name?'
'Yes.'

Like all modern stories I played with all six of them, together but It was really fun to split the group.
Nobody got hurt. Only tomfoolery of the second level.

Nonus Refertia has a 72h day night cycle. This will play some part later.
To pass the time the Noise Marine invented a game. He tried to test the
limits of his Astartes Organs.
I will refer to this as the derailing trainwreck Episode.

For science I put a little something together. disconnects and timeouts made me do this:






The guy who made us believe he was Edward Forty Hands



Or in the voice of the Noise Marine after he got back in the vox channel (must have stolen a vox link on the train):

'Is something on tv?'
'Soap operas -- I like the soda commercials they put in the breaks.'
'Baking or wash?'
'Both never can have enough Soda.'

Toilet duck mixes well with soda. The bubbles almost make it edible. [in]The things you know.[/i]

'What did you eat last night?'
'After some paint thinner, I thought about pasta. There was a boxed container with soylent veridian, but I was more in the mood of sugar so I put the noodles in instant custard.'
'Nice, though a bit spooky that it worked.'
'Yeah my stomach is creeping me out. I got belches something fierce.'
'Creepy pasta is a strange name for a dish.'

'And what about dessert?'
'I stole a danish from the dining car'
'Did it taste better or worse than your creepy pasta?'
'Technically it was illegal to steal, so better.'

That was when our ventrillo group really got into Katy Perry lyrics. Well not really but if you are not on the spectrum you should find sarcasm without an emoji telling you.



There where some holidays in between in our real lives, so we took a short break from venting our game.

Mostly they did ground work, nothing out of the ordinary. I will take the time to describe both settlements.

Northern Pole Land had a capital called New Barlinek. They were ruled by elitists who took the Project Black Crusade almost over by trying to paint all characters power armors red.
But the 5 groupies were better than that and cut them loose. They found a nice Garage in the lower hive as a base of operation.
Architecture was Göthic as 3. All of them got new paint jobs in ultra marine blue. That suited them just fine since after radiation poisoning from the anti-nid bombardment,
they were quite colorblind in New Barlinek. The only spectrium they could percieve was red, white and blue.

Meanwhile on the other side of the planet, the Noise Marine stumbled into mild problems. An Arbites who took the law into his own giving hands.

'I am the law.'
'Hello Marshall Law.'
'Oh you are a funny little rapscallion ain't yah.?'
'I just got here. My train got almost derailed.'
'Do you know anything about a sky diving Astartes?'
'How should I, do you see a jump pack on my back?'
'I got me eyes on ya. Name's Skilly the Twit -- fasted shot in the south.'
'Mr. twit what is this place called?'
'You are in the lone star state. The pollution and fallout makes us see only one star. Our own.'
'Thank you Skilly you've been most helpful.'


The Noise Marine was having doubts. How should he get back to the rest of the warband? Why was everyone here a twit? He found some dark green paint, and since he had an ancient Pig Nose Helmet
he would pass as a Dark Angel. Who knows all the Astartes colors anyway? It's not in the lore for sure.

The Cog Person used their heretic skills to find a white board. There were some papers there which must have been left for some time. A list of things were on them.
All of them were refered to somebody named Craig. The Blood Angel knew it. Every backwater in the Screaming Vortex has a 'Craig's List'

By the power of the omnissiah they established a secure channel to the lone star southerners and it didn't take long to locate a giant, pig nosed marine who still smelled slightly like toilet duck.

All together came up with a plan:

-to find the Obsidian Stool they couldn't work together but had to make allies in the local populace. An old Cogitator in the Lone Star Shed and the slightly newer one in New Barlinek would have to do.
-the Noise Marine was making contact at the Saloon, called the 'Seedy Gene's Haberdashery' it also had a 'Craig's List'. The both were connected through landlines.
-The World Eater and the Night Lord had plan's of there own. Withouth foreshadowing too much --nothing good.
-the Blood Angel was strangely at ease in his new colors

Cog person had to find out for their self. What would Craig's list do and who could they trust.
In the underhive, they found a bar, in the bar they found a ladder, at the bottom of the ladder there was a small blinking light. An old servitor lost and forgotten.
Well a Heretek could go far with something like this.






Vox channel from somewhere planetside.

'I got jammed'
'How can you tell?'
'I push the trigger button and shit ain't happening.'
'Gotta pull dem trigger not push.'
'But it won't stay down.'




Remember, the gambling passenger put a tarot card in his pocket during the derailing train ride. It showed temperance on öne side and the fool on the öther. On further examination there was writing on it:

'Trevor's Axiom'

'Well it sure isn't an ace of spades, but maybe söme büddy on 'Craig's List' will give me some Thröngeld for it.'

He put the trading card on Craig's List. It was listed for 340 Throngeld. Plus 70 for shipping it, it almost got shipped double. After advertising fees he got 270 out of it.
The message of the happy buyer was the following.

The leading horse is white.
The second horse is red.
The third one is a black.
The last one is a green.



-Herb4Twenties

Well if Herb is happy with Trevor's Axiom all the better. Though the song lyrics are kinda strange, thought the Noise Marine.
He liked electronic pop music way more than classics from the dark age of technology: