Okay, update: I have a week off from work, but my travels have left me bereft without my computer and my files by extension. But with that said, I will try my best to update.
Regards,
Alistair
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Yep. I've been really busy with work. And my computer has been giving me issues to no end. Sorry for the delay guys.
Bad news. I can't post before bed. I've got literally four hours of sleep until my next shift starts tomorrow morning. I'll post tomorrow afternoon. Sorry for the delay.
My work shifts have been brutal. I'm on break now, but I'll be able to post an update tonight before bedtime.
It's finals time for my college. Please bear with me while I take care of business on my end.
Has anyone seen Cimbria?
As of this moment in time, you can only take anything from Abundant to Plentiful with a max cap of 200 thrones per person.
Sharben nods. "Glad to see you've all got your heads on screwed right. Now if you'll excuse me..." With that, he inclines his head towards you and departs from the room. A few minutes after he leaves, a voice can be heard over the ship's vox system. "All hands brace for impact. The Angelae Imperator will be transitioning from the warp into the Materium within T-minus twenty minutes." A navy officer then enters the room, the very same one that guided you to your rooms. "If you'll follow me, your shuttle has been prepared for you. The Inquisitor wants you to deploy with all haste after we exit the warp."
Intelligence would probably be the closest thing for memorization rolls. With that said, to recall information, I'd probably give you penalties or bonuses depending on how obscure/common the information you're trying to recall is.
He raises his eyebrows. "Your faith should be sufficient to shield you from corruption. That I have no doubt of. And as for better armor? Be sure to talk to the quartermaster after you've completed this mission." Sharben turns to Cimbria. "Prior to the revolt, the mine was owned by a relatively minor baron. Right now, it's property of the Commissariat, who will then cede authority over its area to Inquisitorial agents. The dataslate I'm sliding to you contains the necessary documentation for this transaction." He slides a dataslate across the table. Presumably the one with the most social skills is the one to best hold onto it. "Do you have any other questions?"
The Inquisitor thinks for a second before responding, "I will be assigning a servo-skull to record your progress for the sake of my personal review and for our Ordos archives. It shouldn't be too much trouble for my tech-priests to install a panic button inside of it for your cell's use should things go out of control."
"As of now, the Commissariat has complete control over this section of the mines. It is no secret among the important folk that the Inquisition is on its way to investigate Chaos activity, but keep interactions with civilians at a minimum. The last thing we need is the populace screaming about daemonic incursions and other panic-inducing kinds of hearsay. But for the most part, you are operating openly among the regiment that has secured the mine for your arrival."
After you've settled yourselves down somewhat, Sharben begins to speak. "In approximately two hours, this ship will exit the warp and materialize over Sepheris Secundus. For those unaware, it is a feudal world that primarily exports metal ore and raw promethium as its tithe to the Imperium, and from what I hear, life is cheap. The barons will do whatever it takes to meet their quota, and harshly punish those that fail to comply. "But in any event, my office has received disturbing reports about signs of Chaos worship deep within the mines. Details are short, but when a detachment of Imperial Guardsmen were sent to suppress what appeared to be an unruly uprising, they came out of the tunnels, ravening and gibbering about symbols that burned in their minds and 'creatures that had never seen the light of day'. "The Commissariat was quick to order the mines sealed until Inquisitorial aid could be reached. Naturally, the barons are no small amount of anxious because of this. Sepheris Secundus is the Calixis sector's primary source of the aforementioned resources. Prolonged closure could permanently damage the planet's economy, as well as that of the sector. "This is where all of you come in. I've taken the liberty of assigning all of you to this mission. You are to investigate the mines for signs of the Ruinous Powers and take the appropriate measures of purging them from the world. "Because this is your first mission, I will not be accompanying you. I want to personally see for myself how you'll perform outside of a moderately controlled environment. You will most certainly face death or worse when you undertake any future missions. But with that said, I have absolute faith in your abilities. I wish you all the best in this task, and pray to the Emperor for your success. "So!" he claps his hands, scrutinizing all of you carefully, "Do you have any questions?"
...only for it to stop half-way across the table. It floats in midair, much to your shock, before gently bobbing its way to the outstretched hand of Inquisitor Alistair Sharben, who is standing by the door. There's a frown on his face as he gives the utensil to a nearby servant, who only looks too happy to be getting out of the room as soon as possible. "It's good to see you're all getting together nicely," he observes, seating himself at the head of the table. "But I would hope that your parents taught you better manners than to call each other nasty names, or other subtle insults. By all means, please go ahead and hate each other, but do so in a manner that doesn't lead to anyone becoming permanently maimed or disfigured. The Inquisition will not tolerate fighting inside of the cells and neither will I. Failure to do so will result in repercussions. Have I made myself clear?"
Two days pass by, in which you've spent your time devoting yourselves to whatever task you've decided to do, be it practicing your marksmanship, reading in the library, or weight lifting in the gymnasium. You feel yourselves grow stronger...
A pinging sound rouses you from your slumber before you hear a voice over the overhead vox in your rooms. "All acolytes are to report to the briefing room by order of Inquisitor Sharben by 0800 hours standard time, combat ready and prepared for your first assignment." After the voice fades away, you look at the chrono affixed to your nightstands. It is 0645. What do you do?
I haven't seen anyone clinch a throw that hard since the Titans. XD Oh yeah, we now return to your regular purging.
Roth:
The closest thing that passes for a bar is the cafeteria atrium for the ships high ranking officers and officials. Recaff and all sorts of wholesome meals are available to select in a self-serve, buffet style. The atrium itself is about thirty by fifty feet in terms of size. @Cimbria: Directions to the ship's gymnasium have been provided in your portable data-slate. Roth:
The tech-priest slides a data slate towards you. Fill out the requisition form," he/she (?) drones (you can't tell due to the extent of the augmentations). "Currently, acolytes of your rank are only allowed access to certain armaments. Consult the directory for additional information." ===== Ship Mechanics (That I will continue to work on) * Armory: Requisition armaments and armor, practice your shooting.
* Briefing Room: Where you will be briefed/debriefed by the Inquisitor. * Cafeteria Atrium: Feed yourself. * Gymnasium: Train yourself. May gain XP depending on how well you do. * Librarium: For researching topics. +20 to Lore rolls when in here.
Simms:
After taking your words into consideration, the cleric responds, "Then I suggest leaving your axe as far away from you when you sleep. If you wish to be secure in going to your rest, then may I suggest taking a knife? Additionally, I would prescribe you morning and evening prayers to the Emperor to shield you from further...night terrors." At Vector's request, the servitor nods before calibrating the elevator controls to take you to the armory. One elevator trip and five-minute walk down a maze of corridors later, and you find yourself at the entrance to the ship's armory and practice range. A pair of tech-priests tend the reception desk.
Vector:
"Access to query:Enginarium is not permitted at this time. Please try again at a later date, or contact your local administrator for assistance." The servitor manning the elevator drones. Simms:
A man slides into the pew that you're sitting in. Dressed in the livery of a cleric in the Ministorum, the bearded figure frowns before speaking. "Dreams? Try your best to remember their nature. Only then will I be able to try to dispense my advice as best as the Emperor will allow." After Cimbria and Titus' little encounter, is there anything you two wish to do?
In response to Simms and Cimbria's questions, Officer Egares says, "Directions to the armoury, as well as mess hall and prayer times, have been provided and are lying atop your desks. Additionally, if you wish to see a priest, there is a small chapel available for passenger use. Father Merric will be able to take your questions." Bowing politely, he makes his exit. ------------ @Vector:
Dia mutters an obscenity about Vector's parentage. After chortling at Vector's remark, Sharben nods at Titus. "You wouldn't be sitting here if I didn't think you were up to what I've got in store for you. And it isn't only a singular threat, Mister Scipio. 'Threats' would be a more accurate term, given our Imperium's disposition." He eyes Simms oddly. "I'm a firm believer of 'the acolyte cell that stays together, survives together.' Or 'dies together', but that's beside the point. You performed most admirably as a team during your test, so I see no reason to separate you now." ------ A vox unit within the Inquisitor's ears crackles to life. You are unable to hear it over the dull roar of the Valkyrie's engines, but you can see him mutter an acknowledgement before returning his gaze back to you. "Acolytes," he intones, all expression of amicability gone on his face, eyes hardening and eyebrows drawing together in a serious gaze. Suddenly, his electric blue eyes aren't friendly anymore and his electric blue eyes scrutinize all of you with a sharp look. "You are about to formally enter into the service of the Emperor's Inquisition. But tell me first: just how far are you willing to go to fulfill your holy duty? How much are you willing to sacrifice in order to protect the Imperium of Man from enemies both within and without? Just how much of yourself will you dedicate to the eternal war against the shadows that threaten to despoil and corrupt all that we hold dear?" ------- There is a deafening silence as his baritone words resonate through the transport. Dia instinctively jumps at the sudden change in tone, but she meets the Inquisitor's gaze defiantly. "I've never been afraid to die, even when I was doing deals in the criminal underworld. All that working for the Inquisition means is that my paycheck gets significantly bigger. But know this," she practically snarls. "I'm never going to betray the Imperium over a few shiny baubles. I may be a thief, but I'm no gakking heretic, and you'll find me dead before you see me fighting for the side of traitors and backstabbing scum."
To Simms, he responds: "Indeed it is. Indeed it is..." Oddly enough, at Vector's words, the Inquisitor's smile widens as Dia's face goes murderous. "In the words of a young girl I met during a routine purging of an agri-community gone bad, I must say to you: why not both? Well, the topic of discourse was giving her the choice between torturing or killing a corrupt magistrate responsible for her family's deaths, but I would believe that the same principle applies! The more, the merrier!" Dia's murderous face takes on a wide and sickeningly sweet smile. "The only time you'll ever find me jumping on your skinny ass is when I introduce my shiv to your warp-damned intestines, witch-boy..."
At the mention of Dia, the aforementioned woman levels a frosty glare at Vector. "If it weren't for the 'quisitor, I'd gut you like a fish, daemon-spawn..." She looks as if she makes ready to make true on her promise, but a sharp look from Sharben causes her to stand down. "The lad's just teasing you, Miss Harmon," Sharben laughs, face returning to his ambivalent manner. He waggles his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. "And don't worry, Mister Linear. I assure you that Miss Harmon has all of the necessary qualifications. Had she not, I would have ordered my stormtroopers to gun her down on the spot!" You all cannot help but shudder at the candidness of his words. Addressing Simmins, he sighs before replying with a solemn air: "I assure you, Mister Olways, that the child you refer to as 'thing' is just as human as you are, give or take a few pyromaniac tendencies and a connection to the warp. My line of work has taken me to many planets that have forced me to remove children from their homes due to their...talents. Regretfully, not all of them were strong enough to withstand the trials of the Black Ships. The Astropathica Telepathica takes the promising ones and leaves me with the scraps as 'fodder' for Cadre applicants such as yourselves. That is the only use that these rejected children have."
Sharben's face breaks into a friendly smile. "Good to see you all alert and ready! Now, follow me, if you please." You follow the Inquistor and his retinue down a series of winding halls. Dia seems to have gotten over her earlier fright, but maintains her sullen and standoffish attitude as you make your collective journey. Sharben leads you towards a hangar filled with all manner of aircraft stamped with the symbol of the Inquisition. A Valkyrie awaits your arrival, doors open and ready to accommodate passengers. You all clamber into the vehicle and strap yourselves into the seats. An overhead voice alerts Sharben that he's going to take off. After ensuring that the maintenance crew is clear of the turbines, the engines fire up and cycle to life, lifting the Valkyrie off of the ground. You exit the hangar and, to your general surprise, discover that the testing facility was built on the planet. You were never aboard the Angelae Imperator, let alone any ship to begin with. "So!" Sharben rubs his hands together. "If you have any questions for me, now's the time to ask them. It's going to take the better part of half and hour before we reach the ship, so ask while I'm still available."
Achievement Unlocked: NO KILL LIKE OVERKILL! The pyrokine shrieks and howls as Vector's firebomb sets its cloak ablaze. The androgynous child doesn't even have time to stop, drop and roll as Simmins' volley tears into its frail body. It collapses to the ground, still burning as it twitches in its death throes. ----- Rewards:
XP Gain: +80 (Killed a wytch-child)
----- Within a few seconds, the lights come back on, the overhead lumens bursting to life. You instinctively shield yourselves from the sudden flare of light. An overhead vox-system crackles to life... "Testing...testing...is this thing working?" an accented voice says over the intercom. Apparently content, it clears its throat before speaking in a grandiose tone. "To the men and women clustered besides the blast door, you have proven yourselves not wanting against the trials I have subjected you to. I had my reservations when I first saw you, but now there can be no doubt; the Emperor truly smiles upon you. Now, budge up a bit. I'm opening the blast doors." The blast door rumbles and shakes as it slowly starts to open, revealing not an Enginarium, but a large room surrounded by Inquisitorial stormtroopers. In front of them, a well-dressed man scrutinizes you with a critical look, carrying himself with a confident gait. Despite the grey in his hair and beard, you cannot ignore the electric blue eyes that seem to pierce all they see. This...this is an Inquisitor.
Gain a +4 to Initiative due to Vector's warning! ---------- "wORds WoN't sAvE yOU nOw..." There is a flash of smoke at the far end of the light's illumination, a dozen meters away from your centralized position. As it fades away, a small child, no higher than a four and a half feet tall, stares at you with eyes of burning fire. You are unable to ascertain its gender due to an adrogynous face and baggy cloak covering its body. But you are immadiately able to tell that it's dangerous, given the ball of fire collapsing in its hands. "pLaY WitH mEEeeeeeee!!
An extra Fireball has been generated due to Overbleed!
"BuRN fOR MeEeEEEEE!!!! Both fireballs miss the Sanctioned Psykers, splashing against the wall and dissipating into waves of unnatural heat.
@Vector:
You can feel a burning presence approaching the party. Your abilities estimate it to be 65 meters...no, 45 meters...no! 30 meters and closing in on the party!
@Vector and Roth:
From the darkness found within the darkness in front of you, you can hear the soft sound of a child's laughter, a two-tonal noise of mirthless innocence intertwined with demented insanity. @Everyone: You can hear nothing over the sound of the ship's ambient noise.
Dia stirs, clutching her head and moaning. She finds purchase on the wall and takes shaking breaths of air, still unnerved by the unnatural darkness cast upon the group. The only comfort that she has is a small amulet of the Aquila that's clenched in her hands. ---------- Make a Perception Check.
Dia shrieks and faints, becoming little more than a limp sack of unyielding flesh and bones. She will awaken in...
1 Round and gain...
----------- From the salvageable loot you pick off the mutants, you find a pair of lumens that seem to be in working order. When turned on, they will illuminate at least a dozen meters down the hallway. As you scramble to pull yourselves together, you hear a disembodied voice coming through the air, light and breathy as if spoken by a child. The words are spoken in Low Gothic, and this is what you hear: "...lItTlE aCOlyTEs...cOMe tO PlAy? ComE To mAkE Me lAuGH? CoMe tO MAke mIsTEr fLufFY hAPpy? iT's bEeN tOo LOng sInCe SoMEonE's cOMe AnD pLaYeD wItH uS..."
You found similar dataslates with the same message, the only difference in the name the tablets were addressed to.
There is a brief noise before lights promptly cut out, shrouding you in pitch black darkness as you hear the noise of a generator powering down. A weak flickering is the only indication that the emergency lights still work, but judging from the amount of flickering that they're doing, getting reliable vision from them is tentative at best. Flashes of the weak light cast macabre shadows dancing in the corners of the hallways...but who's to say that they're merely shadows? Please make a +0 Challenging Fear Test. ------ Your environment is now Dark!
Apologies for the delay. College is once again being stupid. Will update as soon as I finish this stupid paper...
Cutscene Time! You pull off the hood to find that "he" is in fact a she, a sharp-eyed young woman with black hair. She appears to be in her mid twenties and would be considered to be fairly attractive by most worlds' standards, save for the harsh scowl set upon her features. "What part of 'I'm not a heretic' didn't you hear, you gakking b*tch?!" she snarls. "You want gakking proof that I was headed for the escape pods?! Here!" Despite your efforts to restrain her arms, she manages to reach into a hidden pocket in her cloak and shove a mirco data-slate in your face. "Read the damn thing before jumping to conclusions, you stuck up pieces of-" Her angry shouting goes, an odd mix of Low Gothic and an unrecognizable Hive Dialect that punctuate the air with obscene curses and rude gestures. But you are oblivious to her rant as you inspect the words written across the screen. The Message: Criminal Dia Harmon, in the God-Emperor's benevolent mercy, His Most Holy Inquisition has seen fit to give you a second chance. Underneath this message is a map of the ship, where you will notice a section labeled 'X'. Behind the doors are the salvation pods which will take you wherever you go, within the vessel's fuel supplies, of course. Should you reach the compartment and overcome the obstacles along your way, then freedom shall be yours once again. How you decide to spend it is up to your discretion.
The cloaked figure points to the bloodied remains of its dead companions. "There they are. Frakking mutant bastards were in charge of the whole shebang," it mutters with notable distaste. "Never liked dealing with the tentacled freaks, but it was either a temporary alliance or their claws in my belly."
At the mention of the warp core, its voice becomes confused. "Warp core? What the hell are you talking about? We ain't touched no warp core. I was too busy hauling my ass to the escape pods. Which happen to lie behind that door you splattered my 'friends' against. I swear on da Emperor's name, if there was a warp core, I wouldn't be anywhere near it," it assures you as your faces darken. "I may be scum, but I ain't no skakking heretic." It seems to be telling the truth based on its tone of voice. That being said, its face is still hidden under the cowl, obscured from your view.
The cloaked winces at the combined pressure of both Vector and Cimbria. It seems to register your threats and, after a moment's silence, starts talking in a subdued yet petulant tone. "Fine," it growls, "I've lived long enough to know when to fold my cards. So then, in the interest of keeping my face, I'll talk. What is it that you want to know?"
The last alive passenger groans and mumbles incoherently before snapping to attention with surprising alacrity. It visibly flinches at the sight of Simm's and Cimbria's guns trained on it, and slowly raises its hands in a gesture of surrender. "Dammit," you hear an artificial voice grumble from under the hood. "I should have known that throwing my lot in with the freaks was a bad idea..."
Through the combined arms of Cimbria and Simms, the heretic threatening to blast Simms' face off gets his blasted off in turn. The noise seems to have an effect on the unconscious figure. It slowly begins to show signs of stirring and reacting to external stimuli.
* Servitor Fight on the First Floor: 80 + 30 (Cultists)
Roth misses, and you are now faced with a bleeding heretic clutching a battered lasgun. There are three other bodies in various states of painful death, but there appears to be one that is barely alive, taking raspy breaths while unconscious. You cannot make out any other features because the individual is cloaked. @Simms: There are gaps because of the nature of trams to have safety rails. All of you have clear shots through the spaces between the rails.
The only thing that greets your collective selves is the sound of someone groaning and the sound of a las pistol powering up. "You'll...never...take...me...back..." you hear someone wheeze defiantly, his words becoming clearer as regains his breath. "Death...would be better...than the pit..." A man pokes his head above the wreckage and brings a las pistol to bear against someone randomly...
1 = Simms
Cimbria manages to grab Vector in time as the runaway service tram zips by, the oaths and curses of its angry passengers giving way to screams as they are unable to decelerate the "Please decrease approach speed..." the servitor driving the initial tram drones before the hijacked cart smashes into it, sending a racket echoing across the metal walls and hallways and additional blood splatter and mechanical bits all over the area. For the GM Only:
@Simms: @Vector:
Dice roll and warning.
Everyone sees the two beams of light, and they grow bigger and Bigger and BIGGER as a loud noise not unlike the sound of something accelerating grows louder. The servitor drools, but manages to sputter out, "The requested maintenance tram has arrived in accordance to the distress signal sent out upon impact and damage to the wall. WARNING: unknown individuals have hijacked the vehicle." Make a DC 60 Agility Test to GTFO of the tram's way. The high DC is because you were alerted to its presence before it could get the jump on you.
The servitor manages to drone though a slew of drool. [b]Unknown targets are approaching. Please identify...friend or foe...[b] In the distance, you can see two distant lights growing closer. Make an Awareness/Perception check.
@Simms:
You hear the sound of something in the distance. Upon listening closer, you hear the sound of frantic running and panting, accompanied by the mechanical whir of what you believe to be servitors. Oddly enough, the servitor driving the tram cart miraculously survived. It jerks to life with spasmodic twitches, pistons firing and hydraulics squeaking as it searches for its latest orders.
The device sputters to life, only displaying the following text: Those that escape the ship shall be granted pardon of their sins and freedom of their lives.
Cimbria fails to notice anything, but Simms spots something amid the smashed bones and splattered gore. After nudging through a slew of ruined flesh with the tip of his boot, he comes across a bloodied mini-dataslate*. Activating the mini-dataslate requires a Tech-Use -10.
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