Grey Knight RP

Azrael could feel his wards burning and he looked over at his brother as if to convey that it was happening to him too. He focused and with a snarl he concentrated on the lock of his weapon, as the lock sprung open he drew it from his back. The weapon extended and all the ancient markings came to life, he flipped it around his hand and placed it behind his shoulder in a graceful manner. No matter how many brothers had seen this it still impressed them, this ancient weapon and how fluently their brother could move in this martial manner of hand to hand.
"brother prepare your self"
Azrael,s reflexes have been accused of almost being precognition, he relaxed him self and stared down the corridor his body weight shifting side on dropping into a wide legged stance 70% on the rear and the remaining 40% on his front leg, like a cat ready to pounce. He then spun the weapon around his hand, it almost went with a snap the point facing down the corridor, the movement almost looking graceful this battle pose. Azrael voiced to his brother,
"there brother movement"
Before Constantine could even replie Azrael in one leap spun the weapon while moving like he had no armour on, hit what ever the shape was pinning it to the wall. No sound was heard of the cut a testament to how sharp this weapon was it, cut Through flesh and bone the power of the wielder giving it almost super human strength like no other space marine. The geanstealers screams echoing down the corridor but before the cry lasted longer than 2 seconds, Azrael pulled the weapon out the four armed creature and spun around snapping the head straight off it with the the other end of his weapon the blood flying up the wall Azrael voxed.
"one less filth to worry about brother and this one was not possesed.....strange"
Azrael was now hungry for battle and began almost prowling like a cat in his mind, of what he could do to the next thing that needed to be dispatched. It almost gave him a sense of being of purpose when he was in battle but then for a moment his sense of humour came through
"shall we brother"
he gestured bowing to his brother as if asking for a dance. As he stood up straight the humour faded just like a switch this was his way like water he could be the hardest thing in the imperium but also the softest.

awaits Constantine reply

Ti´Gran and Lodur moved on toward the signal. Behind them they can hear the roaring of Bolters and Ramos´ Assault Cannon. "Lodur, we have to hurry." "Stealers!" Brother Lodur pulled the trigger of the heavy flamer and bathed the floor in flames. "Damn, there is a bulkhead. Open it, Ludor. I´ll watch our back" The Howling Griffon´s chainfist roared into life. Within seconds the chainfist cut through the door. "We´re in Brother-Sergeant." "Good work, Brother. Hold the position. I´m going in and get the drone." "Confirmed."

Ti´Gran entered the room, or better said the hall. Ti´Gran moved carefully through the rumble. A minute later the hall came to life. From different corners, the ceiling and the ground appeares stealer, 7 at all. Ti´Gran was prepared, his shield covered his left against the attacks of three stealer while he smashed the skull of another with his Hammer. That´s what he lives for. "On the Anvil of War. Into the Fire of Battle." With a large arc he hammered another stealer into the ground. The battle starts to become more balanced. The next stealer sprung forward but the shield blocked the attack. A fourth of the beasts rammed his claws into the left shoulder guard. The maschine spirit protested. The headup display showed Ti´Gran 23% damage on the shoulder pad. He turned fast around just in time to hit a stealer, that tried to get into Ti´Grans rear, right into the chest. But for a moment he was off balanced. One of the remaining stealers hit his left arm and he lost the grip of his shield. His shield gone and four stealers remains. He check up his chances. The four abominations encircled him. As one the four sprung forward to pull him down. A moment later he was engulfed in flames. Protected by his blessed Terminator Armour he was save. "That was close, Brother-Sergeant." "My thanks, Brother. Let´s get this damned drone and then back to the others. The drone must be over there in the corner."
It seems that the drone was still intact. Ti´Gran´s Armour was down to 70% effectivity but it would hold. The two moved back to meet the other Deathwatch members.

"Brother Koltor, how far to the reactor room?" "600 clicks, Brother Sergeant." "Ok, we have to press on. We must destroy the reactor. When this is done we will return to the extraction point and return to the ship."
The group moved on frequent assaults by genestealers slowed the progress. "Brother-Sergeant, 70 clicks in front of us, behind the bulkhead. But i have multiple life signatures, round about 20, maybe more." "This is it. Make ready Brothers. We will not fail. On the Anvil of War, in the Fires of Battle. Ludor, you will open the bulkhead with your chainfist and clean the room with your heavy flamers. We must be quick. Koltor, you will set the satchel charges. We others will give cover."
The chainfist cut screaming though the armaplast steel of the bulkhead. In the same moment as the cut was open a claw tried to grasp Brother Ludor, but the Lightning Claws of Brother Halim sliced through it. A second later Ludor pushed the trigger of his heavy flamer and bathed the stealers behind the door in burning Promethium. The squad moved in. All guns blazing they killed every stealer in range. "Ok, Koltor. It´s up on you, my friend." "Brother-Sergeant, they´re coming. I have 20... 25... 30 on my Auspex." "Squad, fire at will. Kill them all."
Ti´Gran smashed into two stealers. To his right again and again the flame tongue of Lodur´s heavy flamer lashed out and hold some of the beasts at distance. To his right he hears the roar of the Imperial Fist´s Assault Cannon. Halim, the Storm Lord, was in his element. He fought, ancient war hymns on his lips, against three of the stealers with his Lightning Claws.
"Koltor, how long?!" "10 seconds." "Brother Ti´Gran, i´m runing short on ammo for my Assault Cannon." came from the Imperial Fist. "My heavy flamer also got only 4 shots left." "I´m done. The timer is set to 15 minutes."
"You have heared him, retreat to the extraction point. Ti´Gran to all Imperial Forces. The Satchel Charge is set. 15 minutes until the reactor will detonate."