Havelock Iacton's page

Two players are probably the best idea,that way they have a little more leeway in what they want to play.

Well, we could continue, I'm still keen enough.
But If so, we should probably think about re-recruiting as well.

"So, I take it that we've reached something of a dead end now?
Where do we go from here on?"

"That may not be enough. I was affected by simply being close to the orb, merely not touching it might not work.
Artefacts like that are often transported in shielded boxes."

Wondering if that might be true here as well, Havelock begins to look around the room for anything like that.

"So, what about him?"
Havelock thrusts a thumb over his shoulder towards the rambling man.
"Also, I do not know how we would transport the orb safely..."

Havelock begins to slowly rub his temples and breathe slowly, in through the nose, out through the mouth.
"If this orb is the reason for his state of mind, I can only thank my training for allowing me to cut the vision short.
...
I wonder at it's function, is it a pictogram...or perhaps a treasure map?
Clearly it is dangerous in the extreme to those who have unguarded minds."

"That...THING needs to be safely contained!
Do NOT go near it, do NOT touch it!
In fact, don't do ANYTHING to it!"

"Ugh..."

Havelock stumbles for a moment, before forcing his mind to accept being back in charge.

"Visions...of an alien city, on a abandoned planet..."

Psyniscience: 1d100 ⇒ 11

"Wait! hold, do NOT touch that orb!
It carries the stink of the warp, and I believe it's active!"

Havelock moves forward to cut Ptah off, just in case words are not enough.

I don't think we'll get any further until someone tries that, so that may be for the best.

Havelock remains on alert, he wasn't adept in curing wounds, only at inflicting them.
There were always the possibility of combat coming.

"Without immediate care, I doubt anyone with those wounds will survive long.
And even if he survives, those wounds look self inflicted to me.
Anyone willing to do that to themselves...their minds must be ruined, no?"

Havelock, mindful of his role still, steps up next to Morvius and places a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"Keep it together, do not let them see you in your moment of weakness."

Willpower: 1d100 ⇒ 15

"This is...unnatural."

Havelock follows, he is meant to play the role of bodyguard after all.
He doesn't immediately draw his chainsword though, just in case the situation can be de escalated.
A chainsword all reeved up is hard to explain away after all.

"Well, that doesn't sound good.
Should we follow? They might not take kindly to it, but if we don't, we may miss something important."
Blades do not make decisions, they merely go where they are directed.

The servant's reactions is less interesting to Havelock than Sank's is. As such, Havelock does his best to see what it is.
He did claim he was oathbound after all.

THAT there is most likely why *I* am here.

Havelock makes his best effort to keep the armed figure in sight, without being too obvious about it.
In addition, he begins to plan out a route towards him, should things go south.

Havelock considered stepping forward to strong arm the servant, but hesitated.
He was trained in interrogation, not intimidation.
Besides, a good weapon stays in it's sheath until it's drawn by it's owner.

Havelock straightens up, and takes a position close to Morvius.
He might only be playing bodyguard, but it was just as much real caution as keeping up the pretence at this point.

"Aren't noble mansions often known for having secret escape paths and such, or is that just something made up for vids and stories?
I am merely wondering if our suspect might bolt the second we arrive."

"It all depends on how guilty he feels I suppose..."

Yes, I think it's time to get stuck in.

Havelock puts one hand on the hilt of his Chainsword, and smiles grimly.
"I stand ready."

Havelock allow himself a momentary smile.
"It would not even be a lie. You are a member of House Zaan, you work for the inquisition, the inquisition wants to investigate Hesentaz manor, doing what the inquisition wants is vital to keep House Zaan living well.
Ergo, we ARE there on behalf of House Zaan."

Havelock frowns as he considers what the new information could mean.
This sort of thinking wasn't his strong suit, but he can sort of understand how it could fit together.
"A declining line, a powerful family on it's last leg, and an heir that is desperate to try and salvage something from this...
It's not an uncommon story, is it?"

"That could explain the deteriorating mental faculties as well I suppose..
Either way, we shall cast the emperors light over these dark shadows."

Morvius leans back in his chair, the rustle of his expensive chameleoline cloak almost lost in his stifled laughter. "Gentlemen, as I understand matters, we are now in service to the Inquisition - willingly or otherwise." He polishes his nails on the front of his elegant frock-coat, which is emblazoned with the insignia of his House. "The likelihood of any assurances, of any kind, is likely to be extremely low."

Havelock's eyes blaze (quite literally), and when he speaks it's with true conviction.

Clearing his throat, Havelock composes himself, and when he continues, he is much calmer.
"I am Havelock Iacton, of the Templar Calix. I am looking forward to serving with you all."

Havelock stands impassively as he listens closely to the debriefing.
He considered himself as much of a weapon as the chainsword hanging at his side, and as such, he needed someone else to direct him towards the enemies of the emperor.

Tall and gangly, almost skeletal, Havelock had been forged in the temple Calix into a fine swordsman, but not much of a thinker.
His distinct Templar silvermask that was given to all graduates hung at the opposite side from his sword.

Secretly, he was glad for the presence of the Adeptus mechanicus, because it exactly the type of person who could do the thinking for him.
Havelock was well aware of his own limitations, and so far, it seemed like he might quickly find a niche in the group of acolytes.

Amongst many of the more "serious" Sci fi circles, 40K novels have a pretty bad reputation, but apparently, most people follow that up with "Except for Dan Abnett".
I can see why, the man is quite skilled.
The most depressing novel I've ever read was a 40K novel by the title "Fifteen hours".
A relentlessly grim look at a typical war from the perspective of a Imperial guardsman fresh from training.
The title of the novel is the average survival time of new recruits arriving at that particular front.

What I found interesting about Mutant Chronicles vs 40K was the general attitude.
Both of them are a lot alike, but the attitude is very much a "Glass half empty Vs Glass half full".
That and some other contrasts.

In 40K, every xeno is more or less an enemy, either now, or in the future.
In MC, there ARE no aliens.

40K is spanning millions of planets and systems.
MC is just our galaxy, with one extra planet discovered.

40K is fighting a losing battle against an enemy constantly growing stronger.
MC is fighting an enemy that is slowly losing the fight, and victory is just in sight.

There are similarities as well, but due to different reasons.
In 40K, technology is controlled by the Adeptus Mechanicus, who are repressive fundamentalists that refuses to innovate, and thus things have stagnated.
And because of the Men of Iron rebellion, the Empire do not use AI.
MC also do not use AI because the enemy can infect them, as well as too powerful computers. This means you can't use them to make the most advanced pieces humanity has discovered.

Neither side have "proper" FTL, 40K uses the warp, MC uses naturally occurring warp gates.

You get the idea.

Well, I've read several dozen of 40K novels, I've played several campaigns in Only Wars, Dark Heresy (only 1st edition to date) and Rogue Trader (both as player and GM).
I've played the tabletop previously, I used to have a Tyranid army.
So yeah, I'm no expert, but I know a fair bit of the lore.

And as an aside, I'm quite looking forward to the Rogue Trader crpg, I've been wanting a proper 40K rpg game for along time.

By the way, since we're talking about lore and such, how many of you are familiar with Mutant Chronicles?
In their youths, 40K and Mutant Chronicles were in fierce competition for the fans.
Obviously 40K won big in the end...

Of the skills we lack, I'd say Operate is probably the one that strikes me as most important.
It's usually a good idea to be able to commandeer a vehicle.

This is is...each day is a gift from the emperor.
A chance to do his work...
And by my faith, I shall prove myself worthy!

Hahaha, sounds like we have a frightful snob amongst us. Working for a living? How...pedestrian! (I'm joking of course)

That does make me wonder how Havelock is going to relate to him at first?
He was after all raised to marry into just such a family, though on a Feudal word, probably a lot less low scale of course.

Thank you for having me, feels good to be back in the ol' 40K again.

Havelock was raised on a Feudal word, to a family of rich merchants, and was most likely heading towards an arranged marriage in an attempt by the family to enter the nobility by way of a marriage to an impoverished noble family of some sort or another.

And then the black ships came...

Turning out that being a "witch" wasn't such a good thing when you want to raise your status.
So, off to terra to be tested.
And he was strong enough to not only avoid getting nommed by the corpse lord, but also to avoid becoming an astropath.

So, as a Sanctioned psyker, he was snatched up by a templar order, where he was instilled with martial training, and a powerful crusader spirit, partially born out of trying to "make up" for what he is.

So, he's kind of conflicted about his own nature.

Aside from just filling in the stats for his weapons (haven't got the books right now), I believe I am done.
So I present Havelock Iacton, Imperial psyker, for your perusal.

Havelock wastes no time, he raises the Carnadon, places his free hand on the wrist holding the gun to steady it, aims quickly and shoots one of the men.

Aim +10
Accurate +10
Attack:1d100 ⇒ 16
Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Accurate Damage: 2d10 ⇒ (1, 2) = 3
Pfft, what a great shot, and what pitiful results.

Stepping to the side of the door, Havelock makes ready to open the door for the others so they can maximize the surprise potential of the ambush.

Awareness (per +20): 1d100 ⇒ 32

"We have at least three individuals in the next room, and they appear to be dowloading and possibly erasing the data we are after.
They may be doing our job for us.
Strike with precision so we do not damage the data."

Havelock replaces the shotgun with the Carnadon, in anticipation of his own strike with "precision".

"I observed that the last time a code was punched in this place, they used a simple variation of the sigma code.
The statistics bear out that there is a 78.5% chance that this lock will also feature such a variation."

If nobody else grabs the Ironclaw shotgun, Havelock will switch the shotgun he found in the armory for that.

"The most logical solution would be for Sholl to lead the way, his visage will most likely reassure the enemy for a moment, and in that brief moment of relaxation, Nata may strike.
Sholl himself may aid by using the silenced revolver.
Should that not be enough, we will simply have to discard stealth and strike quickly and with purpose.
Time is the one thing we do not have on our side, so we should move now."

Havelock shakes his head, a remarkably "human" motion for the normally so very stoic adept.
"Subterfuge at this junction would be a waste of energy.
We cannot underestimate our enemy if we wish to survive.
Likely, they are on the lookout for anyone suspicious at this point.
No, I would recommend a harsh punishing action, preferably by stealth.
Fortunately, we have someone skilled in that area, and access to more than one silent weapon."

"It may not be possible for us to retrieve our fallen comrades body later.
It would be a shame to allow such tools as his to fall into the hands of heretics.
I suggest we divide the arsenal among ourselves for now."

The Carnadon in particular interested Havelock, so he made sure to take it before someone else had a chance to.
The injectors were also something that suited him.
He would have taken the maul and the shotgun as well, but he was already carrying a small arsenal himself.

"The revolver is silenced, perfect for a stealthy kill.
The shield might be something worthwhile for our resident former guardsman."

Awareness (Per +10): 1d100 ⇒ 21

Havelock follows behind the assassin.

"We have arrived.
Time is of the essence."

Havelock doesn't expect there to be too many open spaces in an admin wing, so he elects to carry the pump action shotgun for now as he exits the truck.

Oh hey, just realized this is am awareness test based on sight.

"Furthermore, by the mine entrance, there is what I believe a full platoon of guards.
They are currently not looking towards us, so we need to be done before they change their stance.
And... we will need to find a way to draw them off.
If possible, perhaps we can turn the automated systems towards them instead."

Awareness (Per +10): 1d100 ⇒ 40

"We have encountered a possible problem.
I can see the overseer from here, this person would obviously recognize us should we be spotted.
The automated defense systems near the hangar doors are also active.
We will need to disable them or our transport will be unable to land."

Havelock will steer the cab towards a hidden area so the group can disembark secretly.

"Yes, let us do...that..."

"We should drive as close as possible before we dispose of the truck.
Time is of the essence, we should proceed quickly and gather what evidence we can."

"The downside being that if we focus on only that, we risk being unable to secure enough evidence in the meantime to succeed in our mission.
We are...expendable, the mission is not."

It occurs to Havelock that if something were to happen at the communications array, the people going there would be cut off from the hangar, whereas the people in the administratum hub might be able to retreat to the hangar.
Again, as he did not aspire to a leadership position, he wondered what someone else might say if it came down to a choice between atempting to extract the array team, or to retreat and fulfill the mission, even with 50% causalities.
Causalities were already at 12.5% which he suspected would be considered..."acceptable" by their handlers.
50%? Possibly less so, but if the mission was done, possibly not.
In the end, throne agents were...expendable.