Karthuus the Fallen's page

Karthuus raised a hand in rejection. His taste for gambling never quite developed, maybe a some lingering remnant of the marine he had once been. Still, he observed the game closely. Knowing who just played their cards as they fell and who actually played the table would potentially be valuable - and this kind of knowledge was best gathered without personal involvement.

1d100 ⇒ 78

Try as he might, though - he wasn't up to the task. He had hoped to find some tell or maybe even catch somebody cheating - but as far as he was able to determine, everyone played fairly and well

Karthuus smile turned a little more sardonic, as he replied to the psycker before him. I can speak but for myself. Truth be told, he did not feel like answering that particular question right away.

Something about the contact of minds still left a sour taste in the back of his mouth, and he was not quite happy with how casually the man before him meddled in the realms immaterial.

As the mans grasp on his neural whip tightened, his honed senses began accessing him as a threat. Yet he decided that openly accepting the challenge would serve nothing but eject him from the meeting. So instead, he turned ever so slightly to display the force sword he had stolen a little more openly.

Zurias' entrance brought a smile to the parched lips of Karthuus, and he moved besides the unmodified man. A bold statement to make. Especially since some might consider this a sacrament, casting their fortune into the winds of fate. To gamble is to trust their personal fortune and good luck over the meager simplicities of statistics and "natural law".

He kept up the charade for a moment longer, then cracked up laughing. Ah, preachers hogwash. Old habits never truly die, it seems.

Karthuus returned to the watering hole. He had been there before, how many times he could no longer say. He deposited his bolt pistol by the door, and the full-sized bolter moments later.

He cut as imposing a figure as any marine, fully armored in modern type VII power armor. The imperial eagle had been crudely shorn off, and replaced with a faceless armor plate that only roughly integrated into the whole.

His eyes surveyed the place for a long moment, trying to place regulars, new arrivals and potential hazards. Things never fully become "quiet" in these parts, but there had been a lull of activity in his own life. Something would soon occur to speed him along, he was sure of it.

Phew, it has been some time. I hope I remembered everything correctly. Can you please check this for any glaring errors / steps I have forgotten?